The Future Is All I See
by RubyFiamma
Summary: [8059] [TYL plus 3] [Smut] [Slight A/U] Yamamoto struggles for some sort of normalcy to move on with the future but Gokudera can't let go of his past. Loose follow up to Premonition.
1. Chapter I

**Author's Note:**

**New multi chapter fic! Hope you guys enjoy it, follow up to Premonition, but if you haven't read it it's not necessary to understand this fic, although I highly recommend it! As usual, reviews and critiques are greatly appreciated!**

**[Pairing] 8059, Yama x Goku of course! **

**[Rating] M, R, 18+**

**DISCLAIMER:**

**I don't own anything KHR related, all belongs to Amano Akira.**

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**The Future is All I See**

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**Chapter I**

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"Oi, Takeshi... don't you think you should be getting ready for work? The tenth made it clear to be there for ten."

Yamamoto Takeshi looked up from his laptop and smiled at the silver haired hot head standing in front of his desk. His pale lips were pursed into a disapproving pout and he spun the platinum band around his left finger, something he usually did out of annoyance.

"Ma, ma... Always such a rule enforcer. And to think everyone thought you were once a delinquent," Yamamoto said with a grin.

"Tch..." Gokudera Hayato's mouth quirked into a half smile and he leaned over the desk, planting a kiss to Yamamoto's forehead. "Shut it, idiot. What are you looking at anyways?"

Yamamoto shut the computer lid before Gokudera could get in a glance. He wrapped his fingers around Gokudera's jaw and brought his mouth down for a distracting kiss.

"Nothing, nothing," he said through the kiss. Gokudera eyed him suspiciously.

"But... tonight when we come home, I really want to talk to you."

"Che... there you go with that serious look on your face again," Gokudera said, pulling away and lightning a cigarette.

"Well... every time I've tried to talk to you about this, we always get side tracked."

"Pfft. Who's fault is that, pervert?" Gokudera's porcelain cheeks tinged pink.

Yamamoto laughed. He loved how after all the years they've been together, he was still able to get that reaction from Gokudera. He stood and walked around the desk to where Gokudera stood and wrapped his arms around the slim waist of his partner.

"I didn't mean that kind of side tracked, but now that Gokudera mentions it... " He leaned in and placed a trail of kisses under Gokudera's jaw down his neck.

"Oi, you bastard, we're going to be late for work. Don't get started now." But Gokudera's hands involuntarily moved up Yamamoto's back and clutched his shirt.

"Mm, I'm sure we have time..." Yamamoto pulled down the collar of Gokudera's shirt and kissed further down his neck to his clavicle.

Gokudera's hands brushed over his lover's broad back and gripped his thick biceps. "Takeshi," he groaned. "We're going to be late, and you know I hate being late."

Yamamoto stopped his teasing kisses and brought his hands up to mingle in Gokudera's hair. He pressed his lips against Gokudera's in a sweet, chaste kiss. "I love you," he said with a chuckle.

Gokudera looked up at him and scowled, clucking his tongue in annoyance. "Are you telling me that after all these years you still haven't learned to tie a tie?" he asked, scoffing. He grabbed hold of the silk fabric and worked his fingers into tying the proper knot.

Yamamoto pulled back and looked down at his tie. "Oh... well, if I knew how to tie one then what excuse would I have for Hayato to be so close to me?"

Gokudera looked up at Yamamoto again and smirked. "Are you an idiot? You don't need an excuse." He pulled Yamamoto's tie towards him and tilted his head up to kiss Yamamoto again. "You're always invading my personal space," he said teasingly.

Yamamoto laughed and continued their kiss, starting off with chaste pecks graduating to longer lip locks and tangling tongues when they were suddenly interrupted by the loud buzz of Gokudera's cell phone.

Yamamoto groaned as Gokudera pulled away, rifling in the pockets of his tight dress slacks for his phone. The buzzing stopped just as Gokudera found it and he looked from the phone to Yamamoto with a frown.

"It was a call from the tenth, you bastard. Can you get ready so we can go? He's probably wondering why we aren't there yet."

Yamamoto laughed. "You worry too much."

Gokudera shot him a green eyed glare as he put the phone to his ear. "Hello, tenth? Sorry to have missed your call!"

There was a pause and Gokudera walked towards the kitchen.

Yamamoto headed for the foyer where he picked his suit jacket off the elegant ebony and chrome coat rack and slipped it on. He could hear Gokudera's muffled voice but couldn't make out the conversation. He took his car keys out of the decorative stained glass bowl set on the matching ebony wood table lined against the wall and waited for Gokudera who appeared a few minutes later.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, everything's fine. He and Reborn-san have to deal with an issue, he cancelled the meeting."

Yamamoto grinned and pulled Gokudera in closer. "Well that's good, isn't it? Now we can go back to bed."

Gokudera sighed. "Idiot... we still have to work."

"Oh... well, I suppose I could go an entire... really long... day without touching you," he said with mock disappointment.

"Che, I'm sure I could squeeze in a ten minute break," Gokudera said with a sly grin.

Yamamoto squeezed his arm and kissed his cheek. "So what do we have to do today?"

"Well, I've got teaching duty. I've got to show Lambo how to properly make his grenades," Gokudera said with an overly dramatic eye roll.

"Oh, Gokudera-sensei... Say, can I get detention later?"

Gokudera laughed. "You idiot, students don't actually ask for detention." He nudged Yamamoto in the ribs. "You ready?" He pulled his black pea coat off the rack and bent down to slip on his leather Prada boots.

"Yeah, I've been waiting for you, Mr. I-Hate-Being-Late."

Gokudera looked up and pinched Yamamoto's thigh. "Shut it, you!"

"Ow, haha! That hurt," Yamamoto whined.

"Are you really an adult?" Gokudera asked, raising a brow. He pulled Yamamoto down for one more kiss.

"Hayato, if you keep kissing me, we won't make it out the door," Yamamoto warned.

Gokudera sighed and gently pushed him away. "It can't be helped," he said nonchalantly. "You can be rather alluring at times."

"Mm, is that so? Wow, I guess age does change a person," Yamamoto chided, pulling Gokudera up with him as he stood.

"You bastard, are you calling me old? If anyone should be called elderly, it should be you, old man," Gokudera said, jabbing a finger in Yamamoto's chest.

Yamamoto wrapped his hand around Gokudera's and brought it to his lips. "How so?" he said.

Gokudera blushed and pulled his hand away. "You're always saying things like 'Hayato, my back hurts, massage it please?' 'Hayato, your second hand smoke is going to give me lung cancer' 'Hayato, I think I broke my hip-'"

"I have never said that," Yamamoto said with a laugh, opening their double French doors.

"Okay, maybe not that but this- 'Hayato, we should go to the doctors and get physicals, they're very important at our age-'"

"They are important," Yamamoto insisted. "Especially in our line our work too. And you're at a higher risk for heart disease because of all that junk you eat. And the fact that you smoke."

Gokudera raised his eyebrows and pulled his shoulder bag off the coat rack. "You see? That's what I'm talking about. Thank you for being so concerned about my health, father but I think I'll be fine."

Yamamoto waited for Gokudera to step over the threshold and then locked the door behind them.

"Did you set the alarm?" Gokudera asked. "Or did you forget that in your senility?"

Yamamoto laughed. "Okay, okay I get it! Yes, I set the alarm. Did you remember your paper work?"

Gokudera scoffed. "Who do you think you're talking to? The Vongola's right hand man doesn't forget shit unlike their absent minded Rain Guardian."

"Hey, I object to that. I only forgot it once."

"The fact that you _forgot_ to bring along Shigure Kintoki on a mission is beyond me," Gokudera said, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "Only an idiot would be capable of such things."

"Well, in my protest it was all Gokudera's fault," Yamamoto teased, following Gokudera down their Indian imported sand coloured flagstone driveway.

"How was it my fault?" Gokudera asked impudently.

"Well, if you hadn't distracted me that morning, you know... with that thing you do with your -"

Gokudera shot him a glare as he walked around to his car. "Only an idiot with air for a brain would allow himself to get _that_ distracted. Christ, if you were ever interrogated for information regarding the Vongola, are you telling me that all the person would have to do is suck you off and you'd divulge everything because you were _distracted_?"

Yamamoto's jaw dropped in mock shock. "Hayato! I can't believe you'd even suggest that. First of all, you know me better than that, I'd never do anything to betray the Family. Secondly... only _your_ mouth has the power to make me weak in the knees," he said, pulling on the lapel of Gokudera's jacket. He brought him in close and cupped the back of Gokudera's head, pressing his lips against the bomber's.

Gokudera wrapped his fists in Yamamoto's jacket and slipped his tongue through parted lips. Yamamoto pushed Gokudera up against the car and curled his fingers into his silver hair. He let his tongue swirl around the other, letting it explore Gokudera's mouth.

Gokudera shifted his hips up and pressed himself harder against Yamamoto. His hands dragged down to Yamamoto's torso and rested on his hips. He could feel himself getting hard and he had to pull away before they got out of control, which happened a lot and often resulted in them always being late. He looked up at Yamamoto who's cheeks were flushed and his lips were a shiny red.

"And apparently weak in the brain," Gokudera breathed, resting his forehead on Yamamoto's chest.

"Gokudera's so cruel," Yamamoto panted, kissing the mass of silver hair. "Can't we take my car today?"

"Isn't that thing like a toy car to you? I mean, you barely fit into it, you giant. Besides, I've told you already, your car is too flashy. It's a dumb teenager's car. Not a mafioso's."

"Now who sounds like an old man?"

"I'll throw something explosive at you."

"Okay, fine, fine. We'll take your car."

Gokudera's car was a simple black Dodge Challenger with dark tinted windows, black rims and a sleek chrome exhaust. Yamamoto thought Gokudera's car looked more conspicuous than his Corvette because Gokudera's car looked like it had something to hide with all the black and tints and cameras and other technical junk.

"Say, can I control the radio then?" he asked, ducking in the passenger seat.

"No, my car, my rules."

"Aw, but it's like that in my car too. Gokudera always picks the music," Yamamoto whined.

Gokudera looked over at Yamamoto incredulously. "I'm stuck between thinking you're a man above eighty or a child below ten. Why can you never act your age?" He put the key in the ignition and started the car.

"How are people our age supposed to act?"

Gokudera shrugged. "I don't know... A little less brain damaged and a little more mature, I would assume."

Yamamoto laughed. "I guess so. Ma, makes no difference at the end of the day right? Age is nothing but a number."

Gokudera pulled out of the driveway pouting, which was Yamamoto's indication he had won their little disagreement. He decided to veer off topic anyway.

"So what did Tsuna tell you I was supposed to be doing?"

Gokudera shrugged and used one hand to reach over Yamamoto's lap to open the glove compartment. He began rummaging around.

"Hayato, do you need something? You should keep your hands on the wheel."

"Thank you for your concern, father, but I'm quite alright," he mocked, pulling out a pair of sunglasses from the compartment.

Yamamoto laughed. "Alright, alright. Enough of that. It's kind of weird for you to call me father."

Gokudera put the dark aviators on and looked over at Yamamoto, his silver brow arched above the gold frame. "You wouldn't like it if called you daddy? Not even in the bedroom?"

Yamamoto's hazel eyes widened a little and he let out a long winded breath. "Hayato..."

Gokudera smirked and faced the road again while he left that idea to stew in Yamamoto's head for a little longer. "The tenth told me you'd have to go see Lussuria when we got to the estate," he said after five minutes of silence.

"Oh? Why the Varia?"

"How should I know? I don't question the tenth's orders."

"Right, right. Sorry."

Gokudera took his hand off the wheel once more and pulled his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. He opened the pack with one hand and pulled out a stick with his teeth on the filter. He lit it with his sterling silver plated Zippo and rolled down the window.

"I really do wish you'd quit smoking," Yamamoto said quietly, looking out his window.

Gokudera took a drag of his cigarette and switched hands so that the cigarette smoke would go out the window. He was quiet for a while but then he squeezed Yamamoto's thigh. Yamamoto grasped his hand and twined their fingers.

"I know," Gokudera said without looking away from the road. "I'll try to cut down to... a half pack a day, alright? But I'll warn you, I'll be cranky and more inclined to blow you up for your stupidity."

Yamamoto laughed and kissed the back of Gokudera's hand. "As long as your threats are as empty as they usually are, I can live with that."


	2. Chapter II

**Chapter II**

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After meeting with Lussuria, Yamamoto headed over to the medical and research wing of the Vongola estate.

He had been feeling apprehensive about the conversation he planned on having with Gokudera later that evening but after speaking with Lussuria, he was even more anxious. Lussuria had told him to prepare for a six a.m morning departure to somewhere in Southeast Asia, to retrieve Squalo, who had fallen ill with a fatal disease. Lussuria told him that Squalo being a target of biological warfare was probable and they needed to take precautions. Yamamoto was going because Squalo personally requested him.

He was worried about Squalo, nervous about the mission and he didn't want to put his discussion with Gokudera on the back burner again.

He walked passed the science labs on the second floor of the building listening for voices behind each door. Finally he spotted a room with the door open and he could hear Gokudera's voice.

"... and then you fill it with composition B or my personal favorite, flake TNT. Make sure you're careful when you insert the chemical delay, too -"

"Gokudera-san, this really sounds too troublesome for Lambo-san. Why can't I continue to use the Bovino grenades?"

Yamamoto leaned against the door frame and drank in the view of the gorgeous man in front of him. Gokudera's silver hair, which had grown back to just below his shoulders after being shaved off due to his head injury a few years ago, was pulled back in a loose tail with a rubber band. A few strands framed his face, hanging over his black rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and his eyebrow was twitching in annoyance. He wore a white lab coat over his suit complete with the set of pens in the breast pocket. He had pieces of a grenade in his long, slender fingers that Yamamoto still couldn't believe could gracefully brush against the ivory keys of a piano and make beautiful music.

To Yamamoto he looked absolutely stunning, as he did at every angle in everything that he did.

"You... stupid cow. The tenth wants you to learn how to use your own grenades because the Bovino ones are faulty! Don't you remember the last time we trained? I tried showing you that technique and the grenade nearly blew up in your face! Now I don't care if you're left with a face or not but there's no need to worry the tenth!"

"My oh my... if it's for Vongola then I guess it can't be helped," Lambo said with a long sigh.

Gokudera clenched his fist.

Sensing an oncoming outburst, Yamamoto moved into the room. "How about you guys take a break?" he suggested with a laugh.

Lambo's face lit up. Even though he was practically a man, being spoiled by Tsuna and the girls and well, everyone else had made him a little lazy and immature sometimes.

"Thanks Yamamoto-san!" he said, hopping up and sliding over the flat top instructors desk.

"Oi! I didn't say you could go, you stupid cow!"

"Gyahaha! See ya later, stupid 'Dera!" Lambo called, running out of the lab.

Gokudera turned to Yamamoto. "You..." he said through gritted teeth. "That's why he's so damn brazen! Everyone lets him get away with everything. He's not a fucking kid anymore, at some point he's got to leant to protect himself and the other Guardians!"

"Calm down, Hayato. He just needed a break, he's got a short attention span and well... your explanations on things are very... complex," Yamamoto said with a laugh, walking over to the steaming Storm Guardian.

"Che! My explanations are not complicated, everyone else is too stupid to understand them!" He blew a hair out of his face and started pulling at the sleeve of the lab coat.

"Hey, hey... don't take that off just yet, Gokudera... sensei," Yamamoto said with a devilish grin.

"I'm still annoyed with you, don't come any closer if you value your life, baseball idiot," he said, taking off his glasses and pulling his hair out of the tail.

"Ma, ma, don't be like that, Gokudera. Let me make you feel better," Yamamoto said, snaking an arm around Gokudera's waist. He trailed his hand down to Gokudera's ass and pressed himself in to line against the sharp contours of Gokudera's frame.

Gokudera's eyes widened. "The door is wide open, you bastard."

Yamamoto began kissing Gokudera's neck. "There's no one else on this floor. The kid is long gone. It's just me and you, Gokudera-sensei," he whispered in Gokudera's ear. "I'm ready for my detention now."

A shudder coursed though Gokudera's body and he tore open Yamamoto's shirt, the buttons making a plinking sound as they hit the countertop and floor. "You've pissed me off," he said sternly. "Students that undermine the teacher get punished." He crouched down and licked a hard stripe from Yamamoto's navel to his sternum with the flat of his tongue.

"Mm... Gokudera..."

"_Sensei_. Gokudera-_sensei_," he whispered harshly, tugging Yamamoto's head back by his hair. He licked up his neck and over the scar on Yamamoto's chin. He worked quickly to undo Yamamoto's belt with one hand while the other still held on to his soft black hair. Once the belt was undone, Gokudera kissed his way down Yamamoto's chest, stopping to bite crescent shaped kiss marks on the already battle scarred skin. He crouched low again, undoing the zipper of Yamamoto's pants with his teeth.

"Aah... Gokudera... sensei..." Yamamoto curled his hands into Gokudera's hair for lack of a better place to put them.

Gokudera pressed his mouth to the smooth cotton fabric of Yamamoto's boxers, kissing up the shaft of the stiff erection beneath. When he reached the tip, Gokudera hooked his index finger into the waistband and pulled down the boxers over Yamamoto's cock. He licked his lips and wet his mouth, slipping it over the head. He gripped Yamamoto's ass with one hand and used the other to pull him out fully, taking all of Yamamoto into his mouth. He wrapped his tongue around his shaft and dragged it along his length, pulling back hard with his lips. He stroked Yamamoto up and followed down with his mouth, greedily sucking.

Yamamoto's grip tightened in Gokudera's hair and he bucked his hips forward every time Gokudera's lips reached the base of his cock. He groaned pleasurably.

Gokudera took his hand from Yamamoto's ass and his other from his cock and tugged Yamamoto's pants down to his knees, boxers included. He trailed his fingers up Yamamoto's thighs and cupped his scrotum, kneading it gently with his fingertips. He tucked two fingers into his mouth alongside Yamamoto's cock, coating them generously with saliva before trailing them down to his tight ringed muscle.

Gokudera pushed in roughly, eliciting a blissful cry from Yamamoto. He smoothed the pain over with lapping his tongue along Yamamoto's head and stroking his velvety walls gently.

"Ha-Hayato... com- unn...!"

Gokudera wrapped his lips around Yamamoto and slid his mouth down, swallowing the sweet yet salty fluid of his lover's release. He pulled his fingers out slowly and spit remnants of the liquid on to his fingers, using it to further lubricate Yamamoto.

With his arm still bent between Yamamoto's legs, Gokudera stood and smashed his lips on to the parched lips of the swordsman, biting the bottom lip and tasting a bit of metallic copper as he broke the skin.

Yamamoto's knees bucked and Gokudera slipped behind him, pushing him forcefully down on the countertop.

"Are you enjoying your punishment, Yamamoto-kun?" he asked as he delved his fingers in further, stretching him out.

Yamamoto put an arm on the countertop and clenched his fist. "Yes," he panted.

"Yes, what, Yamamoto-kun?" Gokudera asked in a husky tone, inserting a third finger and pushing hard. He used his free hand to undo the belt and clasp of his pants.

"Yes, Gokudera-sensei!" Yamamoto squealed, clawing at the countertop and biting down on a knuckle.

"Are you ready for me to fuck you now, Yamamoto-kun?"

"Yes, Gokudera-sensei. _Please_," he begged.

Yamamoto felt the withdrawal of Gokudera's beautifully long fingers replaced by the tip of his hardened and leaking cock, pushing in slow. The dull burn and pressure felt good and he felt himself getting hard again.

Gokudera gripped the juncture between Yamamoto's hip and thigh and the other hand wrapped around his shoulder as he penetrated all the way to his base in one steady push. Yamamoto cried out and backed into his cock, feeling the tip instantly hitting his prostate.

Gokudera continued to thrust and repositioned his hands so that one gripped Yamamoto's hip as he fucked him and the other stroked his half hard cock.

Yamamoto bit harder into his knuckle as Gokudera slammed into him, his knees felt like jello and he could barely stand. He listened to Gokudera's gravelly voice moan with ecstasy, felt his warm hand sliding up and down his cock and every time Gokudera hit that spot he saw white. He felt heat bubbling in his belly, ballooning under his ribcage and he cried out for Gokudera to come inside him. After a few more sharp thrusts, there was one more steady flash of bright light and Yamamoto came again, clenching down hard on Gokudera's cock, sucking him in and milking out his climax too.

Yamamoto could feel Gokudera pulsating as the last bit of come leaked out inside him and he gasped for air.

Gokudera wrapped his arms tiredly around Yamamoto's waist and collapsed on his back, his sharp chin hitting his spine. He too gasped for air.

After a minute to catch their breath, Gokudera pulled out slowly with his arm still circled around Yamamoto's waist. He bent down and brought up his pants while Yamamoto stood.

"I need to lay down for a minute," he said with a soft laugh, pulling up his pants.

"Che, you sound like an old man."

"You played the old man today, Gokudera-_sensei_."

"Shut it, bastard," Gokudera grumbled, fixing his belt. "I'm still mad at you."

"The sex wasn't good enough then?"

Gokudera kicked Yamamoto in the shin. "The sex was fucking amazing, like it always is, but that doesn't change the fact that your stupidity is still more mind-numbing then our fucking."

"Gokudera doesn't have to be so cruel about it," Yamamoto pouted.

"Like a child. Christ. I'll have to work late now, you know."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, that grin tells me you're real fucking sorry, asshole."

"I love you."

Gokudera's scowl softened slightly, just slightly enough for Yamamoto to be the only one who would notice it. "Yeah, yeah... I love you too, idiot."

Yamamoto pulled Gokudera in for a kiss, wrapping his arms around his sexy and perturbed husband. "You know, I really think you should bring this home with you," Yamamoto said, gesturing to the lab coat.

"Pfft, I've got to use it to clean up the mess you made all over the desk."

"Well then you can bring it home afterwards. That'd be a tough one to explain to the housekeeping staff."

Gokudera's face stained a beautiful shade of scarlet. "You're right... oh... and what about your shirt? _That's_ going to be difficult to explain, moron."

Yamamoto rubbed the back of his neck. "Haha, well you see, I'm pretty absent minded sometimes and my shirt musta got caught on something and I pulled when it resisted and this is what happened. Haha."

Gokudera stared at him. "Amazing. You're so dumb that acting dumb just comes naturally."

"Hey!" Yamamoto hugged Gokudera tightly. "I'll see you at home, Gokudera-sensei?"

"Stop calling me that now, it's getting annoying."

Yamamoto laughed. "Alright, alright. I'll let you get back to work, Ha-ya-to."

"Che! You're so annoying! Go home, baseball freak! Leave me alone so I can get to work so I can actually come home too."

"Ma ma, I'm going, I'm going!" Yamamoto said with a laugh.

"Did you find out what the Varia wanted you for?" Gokudera asked, slipping out of his lab coat and cleaning up the mess.

"Yeah... but I'll talk to you at home about it, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Go home already, stop rubbing it in my face," Gokudera said, sticking his tongue out.

"Don't stick out your tongue like that. It makes me want to do bad things to you." Yamamoto tried adjusting his shirt so that he wasn't walking around half naked but there was no way around it.

"And that is why I still carry several sticks of dynamite on my person, to blow up incoming perverts like you," Gokudera said with a smirk, rolling the soiled lab coat into a ball.

"Says the man who just role played a dirty teacher," Yamamoto teased.

"You're the one who wanted it, asshole! Go home already!"

"Walk me to my car?"

"Are you joking? Thanks to you I have to go find that bastard cow and finish his stupid lesson _and _fill out a stack of reports for the tenth."

"Aw, okay. Sorry."

"Whatever," Gokudera muttered, heading for the door.

"Aha, I just remembered that we drove your car here today. I'm gonna need your keys," Yamamoto said sheepishly.

"Pfft, why can't you get a ride home from one of the drivers?"

"Because it feels weird," Yamamoto complained.

"If I give you my keys, how am getting home?"

Yamamoto grinned. "I saw your bike in the carport. You could ride that home... Gokudera always looks sexy on his bike."

"Idiot, I'm not wearing the proper clothes for riding. Ugh, I'll figure it out. Here." Gokudera shoved his hand in his pocket and handed Yamamoto his car keys.

"Thank you," Yamamoto said with a peck to the tip of Gokudera's nose.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Say... Hayato?"

Gokudera brushed the hair out of his eyes. "What?"

"That was fun though, wasn't it?"

Gokudera couldn't help but smile. "You're such an idiot... and could you try to be a little less obvious about that limp? People around here aren't as stupid as you are, they'll put two and two together."

Yamamoto laughed. "Right, right. Okay... I'm leaving now."

"Fuck, shit, yes! Just go already, I've only been saying that for the last ten minutes."

Yamamoto kissed Gokudera's forehead. "Call me when you're on your way home? Don't be too late."

"Idiot... I'm never late."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**I'll probably be a while before my next update, but I promise it'll be soon. Please R&R!**


	3. Chapter III

**Chapter III**

* * *

Gokudera was very late. By the time he had finished working it was nearly midnight.

He had managed to get all the paperwork done before he actually found Lambo. He successfully taught Lambo how to make grenades and use them, finally teaching him the technique Shamal had taught him - well, more like he taught himself because Shamal was a useless old pervert - when he was fourteen.

Fourteen felt like it was a million years ago and looking back on his life back then until now, he really was a stupid brat, much like Lambo himself. He guessed that even though he wanted to strangle the dumb cow, he could understand his rebellion.

Maybe Takeshi was actually right about something, age really does change a person. Although in Gokudera's opinion, it only made him feel like he had gotten softer and maybe a little weaker. He didn't feel like he had that same spitfire he did when he was fourteen, though that was alright because he was a reckless brat. He felt like he didn't have the same spitfire he did even three years ago, when he was taken out of commission by the tenth.

_"Well, it's because you're my right hand, Gokudera, my best friend. What would the Vongola be, what would I be without my right hand man?" _he had said when Gokudera had finally became frustrated enough to go against the tenth.

It made him feel weak and he knew the tenth hadn't meant for it to be condescending and he knew he was unable to protest but it didn't change how he felt. Because it was for the tenth, he bit back the bitterness and accepted his new role...

Which was teaching and shadowing Shamal. Or doing the books, filing reports... sitting behind a desk or in a classroom or in the medical wing patching battle wounds of other men and women that got to fight out on the field. He had gone from Vongola's feared right hand man to Vongola's docile resident doctor, teacher and receptionist.

Takeshi wasn't right. Age didn't change you, your surroundings changed you. The people in you keep around change you. Life changes you. Gokudera guessed it was for the better, but it didn't change the fact that he still had a fuse itching to be lit once more, just so he could feel alive again.

He drove over the speed limit all the way home. He was annoyed with Lambo's laziness, cranky and strung out because he ran out of cigarettes and hungry because the only thing he had eaten all day was a chocolate bar and three stiff redeyes with extra espresso to keep him awake.

He decided to ride his bike home after all and he called Yamamoto as he left the estate but he didn't answer the phone. Figuring he was probably sleeping, Gokudera only let it ring twice before hanging up.

He parked the bike in the driveway that was still large enough for their two cars and his bike as well as at least three other cars. The lights were on in the house and he cursed Yamamoto all the way up the driveway for being dumb and irresponsible for wasting electricity.

He opened his front door and a delicious aromatic fragrance invaded his nostrils. He grinned, thinking to himself that even though he was an idiot, Yamamoto knew him very well.

Gokudera hung his jacket and bag up on the coat rack and took of his shoes. He walked through their foyer and passed the office to their dining room, allowing his nose to lead him.

Yamamoto was putting the finishing touches on the set up he had laid out on their long, Italian marble slab dining table.

There were candles and elegant napkins, crystal wine glasses and their fine China, all laid out in an all too cliché romantic dinner scene.

Gokudera smiled. "Oi, you... what is all this?"

Yamamoto turned, a little startled. "Oh, you're home!" he said with a grin.

"Che, you didn't hear me come in? I could have been a burglar, you know."

"Mm, a very erotic burglar," Yamamoto laughed.

Gokudera sighed and shook his head but walked up to Yamamoto and wrapped his arms around the taller man's neck. "What smells so good?"

Yamamoto cocked his head to the side and scratched his temple. "Eh... salmone fig... uh... vetro con pasta capelli... d'angelo? Yeah, I think that's what it's called."

Gokudera laughed and kissed Yamamoto's chin. "Your Italian is horrible. It's capelli d'angelo con salmone e fichi glassati*."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Yeah. I'm the Italian here, remember? But Italian for dinner, you never cook Italian. Usually you cook Japanese cuisine. What gave you this idea? Did you do something? Don't tell me you've lost one of my earrings down the sink again. No... don't tell me, you've ruined my favorite pair of jeans like you did that other time-"

"No, no! Haha, I didn't do anything wrong with the laundry or otherwise. I just... I remember Gokudera telling me once before that you used to have it every other Sunday when you were younger and that it was your favorite because it reminded you of your mom," Yamamoto said with a grin.

Gokudera pulled away and looked at Yamamoto in disbelief. "You... you remember that? I told you that when we were fourteen... back at the Namimori base."

"I know," Yamamoto said, his grin spreading wider. "I remember everything about Gokudera."

This caused an instant heat to spread across Gokudera's cheeks and he couldn't fight the swelling feeling threatening to blow out of his chest. "You're... you're a hopeless idiot," he said, bringing his mouth to Yamamoto's.

"Hayato's hopeless idiot, ne?" Yamamoto brushed his lips against Gokudera's.

"Yeah... my idiot," he said through a smile.

"Hungry?"

"No shit."

"Haha, alright sit. I'll bring it in." Yamamoto placed a fluttering kiss that matched the fluttering in Gokudera's stomach to his lips and headed for the kitchen.

Gokudera looked over the table again and shook his head at all the unnecessary romantic ambiance the candles and the perked napkins on the bone China created. "That guy..." he muttered, taking a seat on a leather padded highback chair.

Yamamoto came back in the the dish and a bottle of wine. Gokudera noticed it was labeled _Imperio de Sentidos Sauvignonasse_.

"Did your homework, I see?" Gokudera said teasingly.

"Huh?" Yamamoto put down the large platter in the center of their table.

"Sauvignon," he said, nodding towards the wine bottle. "It goes well with salmon. Most white wines do. My dad would drink a Chilean chardonnay with this."

Yamamoto served the pasta on to Gokudera's plate. "Well, now we'll start our own traditions. We'll have capelli d'angelo uh... salmone fichi glas... sati? Yeah, we'll have this everyday other Friday from now on with this kind of wine, the way _I _cook it."

Gokudera grinned lazily and didn't bother to tell Yamamoto he missed a few words in his translation. "Except not at midnight, right?"

Yamamoto cracked open the bottle of wine and poured out a glass for Gokudera and himself. "We could if you wanted to."

"I'd rather eat at a normal time, not the time I'm forced to come home at because some idiot took advantage of me during work hours."

Yamamoto laughed. "I said I was sorry. I made you dinner to make up for it," he offered.

"You make dinner almost every night when you're home."

"That's because Hayato nearly blew up the kitchen the last time he attempted to cook." Yamamoto served himself and sat down across from Gokudera.

"Couldn't help it, I just followed the instructions."

"You were reading some sort of fireworks manual. How did you even confuse the two?"

Gokudera shrugged. "Your idiocy is sometimes contagious." He forked the bed of pasta, twirled it around his fork and put it into his mouth. He worked his jaw, chewing carefully. "Kind of spicy. What did you use in the glaze?"

Yamamoto smiled. "I used a bit of wasabi, it contrasted nicely against the flavor of the figs. I used mirin* for the base of the glaze. Do you like it?"

Gokudera chewed a piece of salmon and looked over at Yamamoto, who had an expression of such eagerness that made Gokudera melt a little.

"Yeah... it's good. It's amazing how smart you can be when it comes to cooking... or baseball or swordplay but stupid in all other areas of life. I blame your father for spoiling you," Gokudera said with a smirk.

"Haha, yeah... he tried his best, you know, after mom died."

Gokudera shifted in his seat and took a sip of wine. He didn't want to get into long sappy conversations about feelings right now. He wanted to eat, shower and go to bed. Maybe a little foreplay before bed. And definitely a cigarette.

"So what did the Varia want you for?" Gokudera asked.

"Squalo was infected with some sort of disease, they've asked me personally to go with them to bring him back to Italy."

Gokudera stopped midway to his mouth and glared at Yamamoto. "What's wrong with him? Is it contagious? Where are you going? _When_ are you going?"

"Ma ma, Hayato, calm down. It might be contagious, nobody knows. It's a new strain of disease and so far he's the only one who's contracted it. They have him locked in quarantine."

"How'd he get sick?"

"No one knows. Lussuria said that he and Levi were tracking down some biological terrorists from Italy into Southeast Asia when they lost their targets. Squalo opted to go ahead to scout and fell ill two days later."

"Where in Southeast Asia?"

"I dunno. Somewhere around Burma, Lussuria said."

Gokudera hadn't eased his glare and in fact, he hoped it was hot enough to burn holes in Yamamoto's face.

"Why do you have to go?"

"I'm not sure but Squalo asked for me," Yamamoto said. It made him uncomfortable to say those words. He felt like he was under the lense of a microscope, tiny and small trapped by Gokudera's fiery stare.

"I see..." Gokudera said quietly. "What time do you leave?"

Yamamoto sighed. He could tell already that Gokudera was upset but he wasn't sure for what reason. Gokudera had always had trust issues and he was always a little jealous of Squalo. Also, call it conceited but Yamamoto knew Gokudera hated being alone because he didn't sleep very well when Yamamoto was gone. However, Yamamoto made these assumptions through observations only. Gokudera would never tell him those things.

"Six in the morning," he said, taking a long gulp of his wine.

"Well, I guess you better go to bed then, your flight leaves in less than six hours."

"Hayato... Are you upset?"

"No, I'm fine," Gokudera said, pushing his plate away from him. "I'm going to shower."

"Hayato, please don't be upset. I don't know why, but I can tell that you are."

"I said I'm _fine._"

"No, you're not. Don't argue with me. Just tell me what's on your mind," Yamamoto said, reaching across the table for Gokudera's hand.

Gokudera snatched his hand off the table.

"You always do that, you always shut me out. I thought we've moved past all this."

Gokudera narrowed his eyes and clenched his teeth. "_I _haven't moved past anything. I'm stuck behind a desk while you guys go out on assignments, all I'm doing is getting older and rotting away. I haven't moved forward at all, in fact I've regressed. Lambo does more on the field than I do, for fuck sakes. I'm the fucking Storm Guardian, not some fucking receptionist or quack doctor like Shamal. That isn't my place in this world, I don't know where my place is anymore."

Yamamoto hadn't expected that this would be bothering him but he could have guessed. He smiled bleakly at his husband and opened his hand, palm up waiting for Gokudera's hand.

"Your place is beside me, isn't it?" he asked.

Gokudera looked away but didn't give Yamamoto his hand. "And what about when you're gone? Where will my place be then?" He said this quietly and it struck the chords of Yamamoto's heartstrings, making a resonating pang vibrate through his chest.

"Hayato... I'm just going to get Squalo, a simple in and out. I -"

"I'm not talking about that," he said angrily. "I'm not there to watch your back because I'm here - grounded, What happens when you _don't _come back?"

"But I-"

"I almost didn't. Right? Isn't that why you and the tenth conspired to keep me locked up in the estate?"

Yamamoto was shocked. "Hayato! Tsuna would never force you to do anything that wasn't for your own good!"

"How?! How is this for my own good?!"

Yamamoto got up from his seat and walked around the table to face Gokudera. He got down on his knees and grabbed Gokudera's hands despite his struggling to break free. Gokudera looked down at him, frustrated and his face was flushed vermilion.

Yamamoto looked up into the teary green eyes and spoke clearly and calmly.

"Hayato... let's have a baby."

* * *

**Author's Note :**

*** capelli d'angelo con salmone e fichi glassati - Angel Hair Pasta and Fig Glazed Salmon [thanks for the translation, Lo-chan! xo]**

*** mirin - a type of sweet cooking sake, something akin to cooking sherry or cooking wine**

* * *

**Please tell me how you feel about this fic so far! I'm having a little trouble with the direction I should take it so any helpful ideas or suggestions or even your personal opinion on the fic itself would be EXTREMELY appreciated! **


	4. Chapter IV

**Chapter IV**

* * *

Gokudera froze, he felt like the air had been kicked out of his lungs. He was pretty sure he didn't hear the words right but he couldn't deny that he had seen the words being formed with those long, soft lips.

"Wh-what?"

"Let's have a baby. Let's move forward, together. That's our next step, right?"

Gokudera suddenly burst into a hysterical fit of laughter. This had to be one of the idiot's lame tactics to get him to stop wallowing in self pity.

"Idiot, that's impossible! We're men, we're not anatomically fit to bear children!" he chided between laughs. When Yamamoto didn't join in the laughter or move from his kneeling position in front of him, Gokudera stopped laughing. Yamamoto's eyes were locked on his, his features were calm and unmoving.

"You're... you're serious, aren't you?" He let out a long winded breath. He felt a little bit sick too. "Ah fuck, Takeshi..."

Gokudera pushed his chair out and stood, walking around Yamamoto with his hands clutching the roots of his hair. He paced the floor. Was he serious? Of course he was serious, Gokudera had never seen such a serious look on Yamamoto's face outside the training room, a fight or a batting cage.

This had to have been one of the stupidest things Yamamoto has ever suggested to him. How could he even think about something like that? _Why _would he think something like that?

"No," he said firmly. "No, not happening."

"Why not?" asked Yamamoto, edging in closer.

Gokudera turned to face him and Yamamoto looked genuinely hurt. It made Gokudera feel a little bit guilty but it didn't change the fact that this idiot was completely serious about something so stupid and that made him angry.

"You... are you just saying this shit to get me to shut up? Because I can think-"

"No... I'm not. I've been wanting to have this conversation with you for a long time. Ever since we came back from Paris."

Gokudera's face felt hot, it was burning. His lungs ached and his body craved the calming effects of nicotine.

"Why? Why would we mess things up by having a kid?" was all he could think of to say. He started to pace again.

Yamamoto caught up with Gokudera's pacing and wrapped his arms around him, resting his chin on Gokudera's shoulder.

"I don't think it'll mess anything up. I love Hayato and I think having another life share the love we have for each other would be amazing. I think it will make our family complete, don't you?"

Gokudera let out a long sigh. "Takeshi... I... I can't entertain this discussion any longer. My answer is no. I think this is the most idiotic, brainless idea you've ever voiced for so many reasons than just the obvious ones." He wormed out of Yamamoto's arms and walked out on to their terrace. Gokudera couldn't bear to turn around and see the hurt and disappointment in those hazel eyes.

Once on the terrace, he began to search blindly in the dark. He knew he had a pack of cigarettes out here on the wrought iron and clay tile bistro table next to the ashtray. He found them and fiendishly pulled a cigarette out of the pack and lit it with a shaking hand.

Yamamoto had followed him out onto the terrace and reached for his arm. Gokudera moved away.

"Alright, Hayato... I understand you're upset about a lot of things right now and I don't expect an answer right -"

"Yamamoto! I'm not having this conversation with you anymore! I said no and I mean it, now_ and_ in the future. We will _not _have this discussion again, do you understand?" Gokudera still had his back to him. He was afraid to turn around because if he saw those sad eyes, that unnatural frown and knowing he was the cause of that long face, he'd lose his resolve. If he turned and saw anger, those narrowed eyes and tight lips, he'd probably punch him.

Yamamoto was silent and Gokudera knew him so well that he could see in his mind's eye that Yamamoto was reaching out a hesitant hand to touch him, maybe pull him into a hug. But he doesn't because he knows Gokudera well too. He knows Gokudera will lash out so he draws his arm back and wraps it around himself, looking down at the ground, defeated.

Just knowing this was enough to make Gokudera's heart seize and tighten. He didn't want to hurt the idiot but Gokudera couldn't help being appalled with his blatant idiocy. And Gokudera almost felt a little insulted, didn't Yamamoto know him well enough to know that he wouldn't want to have children? He didn't even like kids. They were loud and annoying and needy and Gokudera hated to give attention to anyone or anything that demanded it.

After a long and uncomfortable silence with the only sound of Gokudera's inhale and exhale of cigarette smoke, Yamamoto announced he was going to bed. Gokudera didn't bother to say good night, he continued to puff on his cigarette until the embers reached the filter, burning his fingers because his mind had been set somewhere else. Probably a half an hour had passed and Gokudera snubbed the last cigarette out in the tempered glass ashtray and walked inside the house.

Yamamoto hadn't bothered to clean off the dining room table but that was alright, Gokudera needed the distraction. He sighed at the half eaten meal on the table, the thought of all the trouble Yamamoto had gone through to make this night special tugged at his heart. He had gone and messed it up, just like he did with everything else in his life.

He cleared off the table, scraping the food into the trash and loaded the dishwasher. He looked around the kitchen and debated crawling into bed beside Yamamoto, curling into him like he usually did, where everything in the world felt just right. Except he knew that Yamamoto was persistent and even though he had ended the conversation now, the idiot was bound to bring it up again and that pissed him off enough to not want to do that.

And there was the fact that he was leaving in the morning for Burma and Gokudera was afraid that Yamamoto would get sick too, or something worse and he was too stupid to understand how Gokudera felt about that. Yamamoto was always oblivious to how Gokudera felt when it came to him being on a mission. He was stupid and brainless but amazing with a sword and sometimes he got too cocky and arrogant and that's when he'd fuck up and get hurt. It used to be Gokudera's job to keep him in check, bring him back from the brink but that wasn't the case anymore and the idiot was too stupid to understand that. Maybe it was because Gokudera would never tell him, but Yamamoto should've known, how many times had they been through this? How many times had they been wracked with fear when either one of them left for a dangerous assignment because they knew that not coming back unscathed or even alive was an all too sobering reality? It had happened to both of them; near death experiences, several times, and it had happened to Gokudera just three years prior.

How could Yamamoto want to bring a child into this fucked up world when they themselves didn't know if they'd be returning home after they walked out that door?

Instead of going to bed, Gokudera opted for a scalding hot shower in hopes of ridding the chills seemed to have permeated deep into his bones. Showers were good, it's where he did his best thinking and usually where he found the best solutions to any dilemmas. Except this problem didn't have a simple answer, he wasn't going to be able to sweep this conversation under the rug nor was he going to be allowed to go with Yamamoto on his mission either. Both issues pissed him off to the point where he was really bitter, but not being able to make sure Yamamoto didn't do anything stupid frustrated him to beyond belief.

It wasn't that he didn't trust the tenth's judgement or disagree with a decision he made, he wasn't angry with the tenth. He was angry with himself and more so angry with Yamamoto because he knew that the tenth's decision to take him out of crucial missions was because of Yamamoto too.

The tenth had been honest with him and had told him everything about those weeks he had been gone and how Yamamoto had changed. Gokudera knew about his dark streak, it was something he had admired about Yamamoto the first time he saw it. He was this stupid baseball idiot, always calm and annoyingly happy but when he was angry, Gokudera _liked_ it. It made him realize that Yamamoto did care about things, he was passionate about _more_ than just baseball and sushi. That side of Yamamoto was one of the things that had attracted Gokudera to him in the first place. But slowly it became out of control, Yamamoto was doing things he couldn't remember, he was cold and heartless. Much like a real hitman.

It started to frighten Gokudera because he could see the effects it was having on Yamamoto during his daily life. Sometimes he'd snap on Gokudera when he was in one of those moods, or he'd lash out at the tenth. He was depressed, he didn't smile much and when he did, Gokudera could see right through his façade. He hated that fake smile, he hated to see Yamamoto with no life to him and he was determined not to let it spread through him like poison.

He washed his hair and his fingertips brushed over the scar that was left after he had been shot in the head. He cringed. It wasn't because he could have died, _almost _died, but because he had sent Yamamoto over the edge and he believed that's what made the tenth's decision to keep him behind a desk. Don't get him wrong, Gokudera knew the tenth's intentions were not as shallow as that because he actually did care about Gokudera and he didn't want to see him get hurt again but he knew that the tenth might have been persuaded otherwise had Yamamoto not lost control. He had been more reckless than Gokudera had ever been and had nearly gotten himself _and _the tenth killed, something Gokudera had secretly never forgiven Yamamoto for. Thus, why he agreed humbly to the tenth's decision and has been a good boy ever since.

And with knowing all this, how could the idiot possibly want to bring another life into their already fucked up lives? Maybe he still was oblivious on how the mafia world worked, but Gokudera knew it all too well and mafia life wasn't kind to children. It hadn't been kind to him and Yamamoto's complete lack of knowledge of anything life related still and will always piss Gokudera off.

He finished his shower and snuck into that bedroom to retrieve clothing. He saw Yamamoto hugging his side of the half empty bed. Even in sleep, his brow was furrowed and his mouth was curved into a frown like he knew Gokudera wasn't there and was planning to leave. He looked like a sad little boy, still with all the innocence he had when he was fourteen.

Gokudera wanted nothing more than to be enveloped in that warmth and make him smile again but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was angry with him for a lot of things and yes, he understood that most of them were stupid and pointless and trivial but it didn't change the fact that he was still pissed. Mostly because he was scared. That's how Gokudera worked. When he got scared, he got angry and when he got angry, he ran away. It's what he did best, it's what he's always done.

So, leaving the house at two in the morning to avoid saying goodbye possiby for the last time was a normal act for him. It hurt, of course, but Gokudera didn't want to see Yamamoto's hurt over his harsh rejection either, didn't want to get into another fight over something so ridiculous.

He drove around for a long time with no particular destination in mind, just smoked cigarette after cigarette aimlessly. He had been doing a lot of thinking and his brain was beginning to hurt. He hadn't slept yet and was tired but he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes and do it. After another hour or so of just driving, he developed a headache and his eyelids started to feel heavy.

He pulled into a vacant lot because he had drove well past the city borders, and parked his car.

He still felt cold but he knew it wasn't the weather, he was just missing the body heat of his practical shadow, his idiot, that he had grown accustomed to for the last thirteen years.

He set the seat back and adjusted himself just so that he was at a forty five degree angle and comfortable. He wrapped his arms around himself but they didn't compare to the long and muscular arms that held him tightly every night.

He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come and when it did, he dreamt of Yamamoto.

* * *

**Author's Note :**

**You didn't think Gokudera would give in so easily, did you?**

**Finally this feels like a real story! R&R lovelies! **


	5. Chapter V

**Chapter V**

* * *

_Clink..._

_Clack..._

_Clink..._

_Clack..._

_"Yo, Gokudera!"_

_Gokudera looked up from his position on the park swing to see the baseball idiot's tall frame standing beyond the chain link fence of the children's playground near the tenth's house. He was waving like a maniac with his stupid thousand mega watt smile that always blinded Gokudera if he stared for too long._

_He stopped playing with the cap on his Zippo and scowled at the teen. "What do you want, baseball freak?"_

_Yamamoto scaled the fence in one hop and landed gracefully on his feet. "I just finished practice and I was on my way home. What are you doing here?"_

_"Che! It's none of your business, idiot," Gokudera grunted. _

_"Haha! Mind if I join you?"_

_"Yes, but I'm sure it's not going to stop you," Gokudera sighed._

_Yamamoto sat on the swing beside him, his long legs bent and sneakers dug into the sand. "Were you going to Tsuna's?"_

_"The tenth has very important preparations to complete before his inheritance ceremony. Reborn-san said it was best if he didn't have any distractions," Gokudera said, lighting a cigarette._

_"Oh I see. So Gokudera was waiting for him to finish then?"_

_"Why do you need to know what I'm doing, bastard?"_

_"Haha, no reason. Just trying to make conversation."_

_"Tch... well, I'd rather not have to converse with you. It makes my IQ drop by the second." He pulled on his cigarette and exhaled a long plume of grey smoke._

_"Gokudera shouldn't smoke so much," Yamamoto lectured in a stern tone._

_Gokudera eyed him but he still had that stupid grin on his face, the one that made Gokudera want to punch him in the face and kiss him all at the same time._

_Yes, Gokudera had unwillingly developed some sort of sick fascination with the baseball idiot since they had come back from the future and he hated it. It annoyed him, **he** annoyed him but Gokudera couldn't deny the stupid fluttering he felt in the pit of his stomach and the way his chest tightened whenever the idiot was around. _

_"The baseball freak shouldn't tell me what to do, I only take orders from the tenth."_

_"So... if Tsuna told you to quit smoking, you would?"_

_Gokudera crinkled his nose and pouted. "The tenth would never ask me to do something that I wouldn't want to do," he said finally. "He's just that sort of man."_

_"Yeah, I guess you're right."_

_"Why do you care anyways?"_

_"Because you're my friend," Yamamoto said, his grin widening._

_Gokudera stared at him hard. "Che... I'm not your friend, moron. I put up with you because you were chosen as the tenth's Rain Guardian. I'd never be caught dead with the likes of you outside of the mafia."_

_Yamamoto laughed. "This again? I thought we cleared this up when we fought Gamma. Ma, I'm here with you now, ne?"_

_"Che, not because I want you to be. You're always invading other's personal space, crowding around. It's annoying."_

_This only made Yamamoto laugh again and Gokudera hated that laugh, it grated on his nerves but yet it was somewhat... delightful to listen to._

_He hated himself for having these thoughts about the idiot and he knew that fight with Gamma had something to do with it. It was the first time he had ever seen Yamamoto angry, the first time he had ever seen Yamamoto stand up for what he believed in and stood up to Gokudera himself. It made Gokudera realize that he may be actually serious about this, ready to protect what needed to be protected and that he wasn't some oblivious push over. _

_Gokudera admired and envied his ability to act so carefree, not have carry the weight of the ugly side of the world on his shoulders. To have a loving family and be popular and well liked. Not like Gokudera cared, he wasn't here for a popularity contest, he was here for the tenth. He was just beginning to see a whole new side of Yamamoto, something that piqued his interest and he wanted to see more of it._

_"Ne, Gokudera... do you think you could help me with my English homework?"_

_"Ha! Do it yourself, idiot. You might actually learn something."_

_"Eeh? But Gokudera's so good at languages! Like English, Japanese, Italian-"_

_"It's because I am Italian, stupid."_

_"Hey, teach me something in Italian!" Yamamoto chirped. _

_"No."_

_"Aw, c'mon! It's such a cool language and Gokudera sounds really cool when he speaks it!"_

_"Vaffanculo," Gokudera spat with a smirk._

_"Haha, Gokudera! I know that one and it isn't very nice. Teach me something... I don't know... suave sounding, you know, like a real mafia guy would say."_

_"A real 'mafia guy' would say exactly what I just said to you and then bust your kneecaps. You're lucky I've only blown you up in my mind."_

_"Haha, Gokudera's so mean. C'mon, teach me something romantic then, ne?"_

_"Che! Why, so you can tell it to your girlfriend? You'll sound like a real idiot then." Gokudera tossed his cigarette into the sand and crushed it down with the toe of his Converse._

_Yamamoto laughed. "I don't have a girlfriend, Gokudera haha! Isn't Italian supposed to be like the language of love?"_

_"Why do you want to learn something romantic if you have no one you love?" _

_Yamamoto shrugged. "I don't know, maybe for when I meet the right someone... I'll want to say something real nice to them."_

_Gokudera looked over at him, without a scowl or any other harsh emotion. He hadn't noticed he was doing so, and had been__ honestly intrigued to hear Yamamoto's answer._

_The sun was setting, staining the sky with streaks of orange and pink hues. The light framed around Yamamoto's head like a golden halo and the amber glow made his wide and eager eyes shimmer like clear, caramel coloured glass. Gokudera found himself mesmerized._

_"Sei bellissimo, lo sai questo vero? Talmente bello che mi lasci senza fiato*," Gokudera uttered softly, absentmindedly. _

_Yamamoto's mouth spread into a perfect smile, reaching his eyes. Gokudera wanted to bask in the light of that smile forever._

_"Wow... that sounded beautiful! Ne, what does it mean?"_

_Gokudera snapped back to reality and shook his head. He cleared his throat and pulled out another cigarette._

_"It means you're an idiot."_

* * *

Gokudera awoke with a bad kink in his neck to the sound of his phone vibrating. He didn't bother to even open his eyes.

"What?" he answered groggily and annoyed.

"Goku...dera?"

Gokudera shot upright, pulling a muscle in his back. He winced.

"Tenth!"

"Is everything okay? I've called you a few times now."

"I'm terribly sorry, Tenth! I uh, I was driving and I had my phone on vibrate." Gokudera hated lying, especially to the tenth but he couldn't worry him with his personal problems.

"And please, Tenth, I've asked that you address me by my first name. We're not kids anymore, right, Tenth?" He hoped he could hear the smile that stretched out on his face because it was starting to hurt a little.

"Oh right," the tenth laughed. "Sorry, I'm just so used to calling you Gokudera-kun."

"Then call me as you wish, Tenth!"

The tenth laughed again. "You're always so formal Goku- er, Hayato. And as you should address me as Tsuna. I thought as we got older you'd loosen up a bit, haha."

Gokudera blushed. "So-sorry, Tenth. I can't help it, the tenth Vongola deserves the utmost respect for his subordinates. I cannot address you in such a familiar manner."

"Awh, Goku - I mean, Hayato, you know I don't think about stuff like that... Anyways, what are you doing? You sound awfully tired."

"I'm uh, not doing anything right now, Tenth. I'm alright. Did you need me?" He desperately rubbed the sleep from his eyes, blinking and being blinded by sunlight. He pulled his aviators off the sun visor and put them on. He was instantly reminded of the conversation he and Yamamoto had in the car yesterday. He couldn't help but smile and hurt all at the same time.

"Er, yeah. I actually called to ask you about Yamamoto, he's already left for Burma, yes?"

"Uh... " Gokudera checked the time on his dashboard. It was fifteen minutes to nine. "Yeah, he left three hours ago." He guessed because he hadn't even bothered to say goodbye to the idiot.

"You're... you're alright with it then?"

"Of course, Tenth. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh... well I just thought that you'd be more upset. Uh, not that I-I want you to be!"

Gokudera started the car and shifted the gear in drive. He let out a soft chuckle. "I'm fine, Tenth. What can I do for you?"

He pulled out of the abandoned lot and headed in the direction of home.

"Well, I can't seem to get a hold of Shamal lately and yesterday, Reborn and I looked into this disease Squalo has contracted and I thought maybe you could look at the information we received, since you've been studying under Shamal and all... "

Gokudera didn't feel confident enough to give accurate medical advice when he wasn't an actual doctor. He just occasionally helped Shamal with tests and experiments, since he was good with math and chemistry.

"Uh... Okay, I can do my best for you, Tenth. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Really? That's great, Gokudera-kun! Err, I mean Hayato... I'll look forward to it. See you!"

Gokudera said goodbye and hung up the phone. The tenth always sounded so young when he spoke to him as a friend and not as a boss. He was still so innocent and hadn't changed very much at all. Gokudera was very proud of the tenth for the man he had become and very proud that he hadn't let the dark world of the mafia taint him.

Unlike someone else who had been lost to the darkness, someone Gokudera loved a lot and felt responsible for, felt guilty that he had been the one to drag him in.

At a stoplight, he checked his phone. He had four missed calls and a text message. Two calls were from the tenth and the other two were from Yamamoto. Once at four thirty a.m and another and five forty-five. Gokudera grimaced at his phone. He checked the text message that was also from Yamamoto. It said just three simple words.

_I love you. _

Gokudera felt a lump harden in the center of his esophagus and his eyes burned a little.

There was a loud honk behind him and he noticed the light had changed. He blinked back the salty fluid that had begun to pool in his eyes and sped through the intersection.

_I am such a fucking idiot_, he thought to himself.

There was no point in calling him now, he would be on the jet for another ten hours at least. He would just wait to call him instead of texting him and hoped he'd be able to get through.

Gokudera sighed. It was going to be a long day.

After an hour of driving, he finally pulled into the driveway. He parked the car and sprinted up the driveway.  
When he walked through the door he could still smell the faint scent of Acqua di Parma hanging in the air. Gokudera loved the smell of that cologne and on Yamamoto it smelled even better.

_"Oi, idiot... what is that stench you're wearing?" _

_"Haha, it's this new cologne I bought at that boutique by our hotel when we were in Milan. It's called... Acqua eh... di Parma." Thousand mega watt smile. _

_"Che... of course the Rain idiot chooses something with water in the title." _

_"Oh haha, really? I didn't even know that."_

_"Tch... really. You're such a moron." _

_"Awh, Gokudera, don't be so mean haha. Ne, do you like it?" _

_Gokudera reached out to grab Yamamoto's shirt, curling his fingers in the fabric and reeled him in. He put his nose to Yamamoto's collarbone and inhaled deeply, trailing his nose along Yamamoto's neck. It fit the baseball idiot perfectly, his own musk mixed in with the cologne for a soft and perfect perfume. The scent was intoxicating and seductive, it smelled of lavender and patchouli with a hint of lemon. It drove Gokudera crazy, and he felt a tingle run right through him down to the depths of his groin. _

_He bit down on his earlobe and exhaled a hot huff of breath in Yamamoto's ear. "Bedroom, now," he growled huskily. _

_"Hah... I guess Gokudera likes it then?" _

Gokudera tossed his car keys into the decorative bowl by their front door and kicked off his shoes. He wandered into their bedroom and noticed the untidy bed.

"Tch... bastard couldn't even make the bed. And what... what's with his dirty laundry sitting right next to the fucking hamper... that guy!" Gokudera felt his face twitch. He cleaned up the mess and made the bed, stopping to breathe into Yamamoto's pillow.

Gokudera would seriously die of embarrassment if that idiot caught what he was doing. He'd just end up giving them bastard more fuel for his perversions. But Gokudera couldn't help it, he was a scientific and logical sort of man and he relied on the tangible rather than the emotional. His feelings were created through touch and sound and taste and smell. He learned from body language rather than words and expressed himself the same way, so remembering Yamamoto by scent rather than memory was perfectly normal for him.

He finished cleaning, showered and dressed in a suit. He combed his hair and while looking in the mirror, he decided to change his plain silver studs to a white gold pair with small peridot stones.

_"You... what are these?" _

_"They're earrings, haha." _

_"I know what they are, idiot." _

_"Do you like them? The stones are the same colour as your eyes." _

_"Bastard, don't say such sappy things! Why are you giving them to me anyways? It's not my birthday or whatever."_

_"Do I need a reason to give you a present?" _

_"Yes, I demand one." _

_"Well then... it's because they're beautiful, just like Gokudera." _

He set the alarm, left the house and got into his car. On the drive to the estate, Gokudera silently prayed that Yamamoto wouldn't do anything stupid and end up getting himself killed. Because if he did, Gokudera would bring him back to life just to blow his ass up again.

* * *

**Author's note:**

**Flashback chapter! **

*** Sei bellissimo, lo sai questo Vero? Talmente bello che mi lasci senza fiato - You're beautiful, you know that right? So nice that you leave me breathless. [Thanks for the translation, Lo-chan!]**

**Also, I'm updating this as two chapters now because for some reason I'm not able to upload new docs, so now Chapter 5/6 have merged. I hope that the problem will be resolved soon, otherwise the followers will have to follow the story on Wattpad. Thanks for the support guys =)**

**-Ruby**


	6. Chapter VI

**Chapter VI**

* * *

"I... I'm sorry, Tenth, but I can't tell you anything more about the disease until Squalo arrives and I'm able to look at some blood work. The information that was faxed over isn't very clear and is a little difficult to translate." Gokudera sighs, setting the file back down on the tenth's desk.

"Ah, I see. Alright then, well thanks anyways." The tenth leans back in his chair and rests his head on a propped fist, his features pinched into a bout of frustration.

"Of course, Tenth. I'm pleased to have assisted you... though I wasn't much help."

"No, that's fine! We'll just wait, like you said." The tenth gives him a warming smile, but it's quickly dropped into a worried frowned. "Hey... Gokudera... is everything alright with you?"

Gokudera looked up over his glasses at the tenth from his position in one of the leather chairs on the other side of his desk.

"Of... of course, Tenth! You needn't worry about me!" He flashed the tenth a wide grin.

The tenth's eyes were filled with concern and his mouth was curved into a doubtful frown. "You look really tired."

Gokudera laughed. "I'm really quite alright, Tenth. Please don't mind me. Was this all the work you had for me to do today?"

"Uh, well... I guess so." The tenth smiled. "You should to go home and rest, Hayato."

Gokudera returned his smile with a genuine one of his own. "With the idiot gone, there isn't much to do. I rest enough already. If there's anything you need me to assist you with... "

"Really, Gokudera, there's nothing. Things have been quiet lately. Hibari-san's work with the Foundation has really helped clean things up. And Lambo is actually training with his _own_ grenades thanks to you! Everything is great around here... except for what's happened to Squalo... so don't go near the Varia's building. Xanxus is in a really foul mood... Eighteen of his subordinates have already been admitted for medical attention," the tenth said with a grimace.

"Oh..." Gokudera really didn't have much to say. He was a little disappointed with the lack of work to keep his mind occupied and Xanxus being in a foul mood was of no surprise to him, he was always pissy.

"And speaking of which - and I really don't mean to pry, but is everything alright between you and Yamamoto? I know you didn't spend the night at home yesterday."

Gokudera's eyes widen slightly and he can feel heat crawl up his neck and over his ears. "Uh..."

The tenth laughed. "Don't be embarrassed, it's just me. I knew about you guys long before _you_ even knew, probably. I'm happy that you have someone to love and that it's been for this long."

Gokudera guessed he shouldn't be surprised, the tenth did have that Vongola hyper intuition and they did have a very open wedding in Paris just a little over four months ago - only because the idiot cried about making it a spectacle.

What surprised Gokudera the most was that people acknowledged their relationship with such nonchalance like they knew all along. Maybe they did and never had a problem with it, but to Gokudera it was odd, almost uncomfortable that people didn't have a problem with things he did. After all, that's how he spent most of his life.

He didn't care about anything anyone had to say about how he lived his life, he was his own man and lived the way he wanted to. The only people that could ever influence him otherwise would be the Tenth... and now, Yamamoto.

The two people he remotely considered family would be Bianchi and Shamal, though he'd never admit it out loud. Bianchi was a good sister, always looking out for him, despite her ability to be overly overprotective at times. She went so far as to '_accidentally' _poisoning Yamamoto the first time she found out about them.

_"You stupid woman, what the hell have you done?!" Gokudera yelled, gripping his sister's shoulders tightly and shaking her. _

_"Hayato, calm down, he deserved it! I saw how upset you were with him after that blowout I overheard -"_

_"What you heard is none of your fucking business, you nosey scorpion! Now, give me the antidote!" _

_"No, I won't!" Bianchi scowled at him beneath her goggles and folded her arms across her chest. "I won't let him hurt my brother again." _

_"Ugh, you idiot. I'm not hurt, fuck. Just fix this, sis." His voice came out almost pleadingly. _

_Bianchi sighed and looked at Gokudera with stern, green eyes. "I didn't even know you two were dating, why didn't you tell me, Hayato?" _

_Gokudera growled and rolled his eyes. "We aren't __**dating**__ and what I do with my personal life is none of your god damned business. Now can you please fucking cure the idiot?" He said the last bit through gritted teeth. _

_"Do you love him?" Bianchi glares at him but he sees the concern behind the fire in her eyes. _

_"Wh-what? How does that... I mean, why does it - ah fuck, I hate when you look at me like that. The tenth will be pissed if he finds out what you did and I don't want him worrying so just fix this, you jerk." _

_A small curl of Bianchi's lips and a soft touch on his shoulder was all Gokudera needed to know that Bianchi saw right through him. _

_"Fine, I'll do it because you love him but if he hurts you again, I'll make sure it's lethal_."

The tenth's voice startled him out of his daze.

"Do you think Squalo will be okay?"

Gokudera looked over at him. The tenth looked so innocent and honest, his eyes were wide and worried and Gokudera had to smile. His boss was such a remarkable man, always looking out for everyone, even loud and obnoxious sharks.

"I'm positive that a mere illness will not be enough to debilitate that noisy shark, Tenth. He's a resilient bastard. I will try my best to contact that perverted old doctor and get him back here as soon as possible."

The tenth smiled wide for him. "You're amazing, Gokudera. What would I do without you?"

Gokudera blushed. The tenth always had a way of making a warmth spread across his chest and excitement course through his body. "Tenth, I'm positive you'd be just as great! You're quite the amazing man yourself!"

"Ah, Gokudera... always so optimistic. You've made my day a little bit brighter."

Gokudera beamed. Any time the tenth complimented him for anything, it was the greatest reward he could ever ask for. The tenth had got it backwards. _He_ had made Gokudera's day brighter. "Th-thank you, Tenth!"

"Alright, if you'll excuse me, Gokudera... I have to pick up Kyoko in an hour. We're having dinner with her parents later this evening. If you see Onii-san, tell him not to be late, will you? I haven't been able to reach his phone and the last time I saw him he was headed to Hibari-san's office. I'm worried Hibari-san might have bitten him to death." The tenth's face clouded with mock horror.

Gokudera smiled. "Of course, I'll go look for Lawn Head and give him your message. Enjoy your evening, Tenth."

The tenth ran a hand through his unruly brown hair and grinned. "You too, Gokudera-kun."

* * *

Gokudera had gone to Hibari's office but only Kusakabe was there and he told them that Lawn Head and 'Kyo-san' had gone training. Gokudera had tried both their phones but there was no answer on either.

After looking all over the estate for the two idiots, Gokudera decided to retreat to his office and have a drink, maybe find something to do to pass the time.

He turned the corner and crashed into a familiar, slender body with a mass of long rose coloured hair.

"Oi! Watch wh- ah, Sis!"

_Speak of the devil and he shall come. _

"Hayato, there you are!"

When Gokudera was younger, his older sister used him to try out her horrible failed attempts at cooking which resulted in Gokudera often falling ill with food poisoning. Sometimes it was near close to fatal and he has many memories being bedridden with that perverted old man, Shamal, scowling and muttering that he hated treating brats at his bedside.

Years of this abuse gave him a gut wrenching, debilitating stomach ache whenever he saw his sister's face, sometimes to the point where he'd pass out from the pain and nausea. After becoming part of the tenth generation Vongola family, the tenth had figured out a way for Gokudera to overcome his 'Bianchi-phobia' as the tenth used to call it. He would have Bianchi wear various types of goggles or masks and it worked, somewhat. Gokudera was able to tolerate her face with only suffering slight waves of nausea. Now he was able to face her without any coverings to her face. He still got somewhat nauseous but it was bearable.

"I was looking for you," she said with a smile.

Gokudera raised a brow and eyed her suspiciously. "Why?"

Bianchi frowned. "Why do I need a reason to see my brother?"

Gokudera snorted. "Because you're a sly woman. You never do anything innocuous without a hidden agenda, sis."

Bianchi laughed. Despite her cold demeanor, her laughter always sounded like tinkling crystal. "That hurts, brother. I don't have a hidden agenda, I just figured that without your annoying puppy dog following you around, I could have lunch with you."

Bianchi never did warm up to Yamamoto. She was civil to him, but Gokudera has caught her in several attempts to make his life hell whenever she found out about one of their fights, even though Gokudera was usually the cause of them.

The time Yamamoto had almost gotten killed on that mission with Squalo, the one he had received the scar on his chin from and Gokudera had locked himself in his apartment for a week, she had nearly killed him for that.

"Pfft. Why would I want to have lunch with you? You still make me sick at the sight of you."

Bianchi scowled at him. The two half siblings had no idea how much they were actually alike when it came to their expressions.

"Then just have coffee with me. We'll go to your favorite café, the one where they make those strong espresso primos you like so much. Humour your sister, Hayato." She flipped her rose coloured hair over her shoulder.

Gokudera let out a long sigh. "Fine, fine. Let's go then."

He had nothing better to do.

On their way out to the carport, they passed Lambo in the training room, practicing with his Lightning enhanced electric cattle prods Gokudera had invented for him.

While inventions of the Vongola weapons was usually Giannini and Spanner's area of expertise, with all the free time Gokudera had on his hands, he often assisted them on several of their ideas. Lambo's cattle prods, however, were all Gokudera's make.

Growing up, Lambo had always used his Bovino grenades in fights if he had to, but he was useless with mid range combat. When Gokudera had witnessed Lambo once use two expandable police batons (abandoned by a fallen enemy who had disguised himself as the polizia) to expertly defend himself, a light bulb went off in Gokudera's head.

When asked, Lambo had told Gokudera he had never used anything like that before, but had once witnessed his cousin (also part of the Bovino Famiglia) fight like that using two short canes. While finding it odd that Lambo could remember this at the age of five (because after that he became an active member of the Vongola Famiglia) and the weapons choice, Gokudera still chose to move forward with his invention. It was something Lambo's small mind had retained for a reason, so Gokudera was positive he was on the right track.

Since Gokudera has a quirky sense of humor (that no one really understands except Yamamoto) he decided on using cattle prods because Lambo was... well, a stupid cow.

He fine tuned the special rods to conduct high currents of electricity without hurting the user but he found that Lambo was susceptible to high voltage more so than a normal person. Thus giving him the idea to create a small 'lightning' effect by wrapping Tesla coil around the rods beneath the four inch sharpened and serrated prongs.

When Lambo activated the triggers on the sides of the padded grips, actual lightning engulfed the rods and created high voltage currents between the prongs that would be deadly to anyone other than Lambo. It seemed only fitting since Lambo was the Lightning Guardian.

He watched for a minute or two while Lambo danced fiercely through the practice dummies, the air smelling like burnt plastic. He had his long, unruly black bangs pinned back in the front and both his eyes were opened and narrowed in focus. Lambo had injured his right eye when he was thirteen, causing him to usually keep it shut except when fighting or training.

Gokudera privately beamed at Lambo, he was proud of the kid and he was proud of himself for training him and he was even more proud of the Tenth who had shaped Lambo into the man he had become, even if he was occasionally a brat.

They left before Lambo noticed them and got into Gokudera's car.

"He really does look so much like Romeo, doesn't he?"

Gokudera looked over at his sister who was looking out the window.

"Yeah... the resemblance is uncanny. You still think about him?"

Bianchi pursed her lips. "Of course I do. I'd never forget that bastard," she said with a long sigh.

Romeo was Bianchi's ex-boyfriend, the only man (aside from Reborn) that she had loved and bared a strong, almost identical resemblance to Lambo now. Gokudera had never liked the guy, he always seemed so sly and smug, like he was always hiding something and it turned out eventually that he was.

They were young and Bianchi was very taken by him. He was suave and charming, good looking and smart. Their father disapproved of their relationship because they came from a very wealthy, established mafioso family and Romeo was a simple peasant, not good enough for his little principessa.

Bianchi rebelled and they decided to elope, except that's when things were awry. A private investigator that worked for their father revealed that Romeo was a member of a rival Family who had been sent to infiltrate Gokudera's father's Family for information on their weaknesses. He also found out that Romeo had also been promised to the rival Family's daughter in an arranged marriage. He had turned out to be quite a cunning and lethal hitman with the potential of becoming the next generation's right hand man.

In a fit of rage, Bianchi poisoned him and his last dying words were that he truly loved Bianchi and that he had been happy they were running away from that life to be together. By the time. Bianchi had convinced Shamal to treat a man (and only doing so by desperately offering herself to that fucking pervert) it was already too late.

"Che... it's not your fault, sis... well, it is - but it isn't," Gokudera said, lighting a cigarette.

Bianchi laughed softly. "Thanks, Hayato. You have an amazing way with words."

"Shut up, asshole," he spat with a smirk.

They arrived at Gokudera's favorite café and ordered their drinks, sitting out on the patio so that Gokudera could smoke.

"So why do you look like shit, brother?" asked Bianchi abruptly.

Gokudera looked up from his coffee cup. "Now who has a way with words?" Gokudera shrugged. "I don't know, I'm fine."

"You're a horrible liar, Hayato."

Gokudera lit a cigarette and sighed a billow of smoke. He knew his sister wouldn't let up unless he told her something. Except he knew he couldn't lie to her, though not for lack of trying. He never could.

"Before you go on another homicidal rampage, just shut the fuck up and listen to the answer to your annoying and invasive question."

Bianchi raised a long and thin brow. "I'm listening," she said flatly.

"I slept in my car last night," Gokudera said with a shrug.

"Why?"

Gokudera let out an exasperated sigh. "Because."

"Hayato... you're being excruciatingly annoying. Will you just spit it out?" Bianchi pinched the bridge of her nose.

Gokudera scoffed. "That's my line, asshole."

"Are you going to tell me why you're sleeping in your car or am I going to have to poison it out of you?"

"Alright, alright. Goddammit, sis! You're so fucking pushy."

Bianchi smiled victoriously.

"I slept in my car because I had a fight with the idiot last night. And before you go and try to poison him again, it was my fault."

Bianchi narrowed her eyes and took a sip of her latte. "Why were you fighting?"

Gokudera flicked the growing ash on his cigarette into the aluminum ashtray on the bistro table. "Because I was tired and cranky and he said some things that pissed me off, so I left," Gokudera said with a shrug, picking up his demitasse and taking a sip of the bitter liquid.

"What kinds of things? Does he want a divorce already?"

Gokudera nearly choked on his coffee. "Jesus fucking Christ, Bianchi! Why are you so fucking interested in my love life? Are things with Reborn-san that uninteresting that you need the drama of mine?"

Bianchi scoffed. "Oh please, Hayato. You're such a child sometimes. I'm just concerned about your well being. If you're sleeping in your car, the fight must have been pretty bad."

"Che. I am not a fucking child and it wasn't that bad... I was just... avoiding him."

"I really don't want to have to ask you 'why' again."

"Ugh, so don't." Gokudera took a long drag on his cigarette and snubbed it out.

Bianchi kicked him under the table.

"Ow! You bastard, what the fuck?"

She picked up her mug and glared at him.

"Fine. Fine. Jesus fuck, _fine! _He... he..." Gokudera felt the tips of his ears get hot and the heat began to spread to his cheeks. He looked away from his sister and muttered under his breath.

"The idiot asked me to have a kid with him..."

There was a loud clank of ceramic hitting ceramic that startled him and he looked back at his sister, who had nearly dropped her mug on its saucer, her mouth agape.

"He what?"

"Don't make me say it again, you bastard," Gokudera growled.

"That's... that's _wonderful _Hayato!" Bianchi grinned from ear to ear and reached for Gokudera's hand. She squeezed for emphasis.

"Wh-what? Are you kidding me? How is that _wonderful_?"

"Because it is! Hayato, having a child is an amazing feeling."

Gokudera snorted. "How the hell would you know, you freak?"

Bianchi sighed. "I... I won't be able to have children with Reborn... so Hayato... let me live vicariously through you." She said it with such a straight face, her green eyes were wide and pleading.

Gokudera burst into a fit of laughter. "You're a fucking idiot. Seriously, is everyone around me crazy? Or is it me? Because I'm really starting to think that it's just me."

"I'm very serious, Hayato. You'd make an amazing father."

Gokudera groaned and lit a cigarette. "I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you too. This is fucking embarrassing, I'm going home." Gokudera rose out of his chair.

"Sit down, Hayato," Bianchi demanded icily.

Gokudera obliged, slumping in his seat. He put his thumb to the center of his forehead, the cigarette burning between his index and middle finger.

"Listen to me, Bianchi -"

"No, you listen to me. I know you're afraid."

Gokudera's eyes were blown wide, his lips were pressed into a thin line.

"I know you're afraid of being a father because of the way Father was towards you but you know... you _know_ he loved you."

Gokudera was silent. Bianchi continued.

"Father was busy because he was a mafia Don and didn't spend much time with you, but he loved you. Mother... Mother made it hard on him, you know? To love you. It was to be expected -"

"Sis, I... I really don't want to hear this."

"You're going to listen."

Gokudera began to protest but Bianchi's infamous glare (that was identical to her brother's) made him fall silent.

"He tried to distance himself from you because of Mother... and after _your_ mother died, it was too hard for him to look at you because everything about you reminded him of her. I know... I know that's an awful thing to say - to _do _- to a child but Hayato... I've told you before, you were brought into this world by two loving parents. Don't you ever forget that."

Gokudera sighed. "You think that it's fair? What happened to my mother, what happened to Father... what happened to _me_? You think that kind if life is fair to a child?"

"What happened to Lavina wasn't Father's fault... or the mafia's," Bianchi said quietly.

Gokudera narrowed his eyes and grit his teeth. "Don't... don't use her name so _loosely_. What happened to her is and _will always be _Father's fault. If he hadn't been a perverted, cheating bastard and left my mother alone, she would never have succumbed to an illness driving off a fucking cliff. She wouldn't have experienced such _heartbreak _if he had just left her alone. Tell me, do you think she was happy having her son ripped from her arms at birth and then have to stand by and watch another woman raise _her _child? While Father all the while got to have both women at his side, a prized _principessa_ and a fucking tool for a son that was used to entertain -"

"Enough, Hayato!"

Bianchi said this loudly enough to draw the attention of the other patrons on the patio. Gokudera felt his face get hot again but now he was getting pissed off.

"No, you listen to _me _now," he said in an angrily hushed voice. "I won't ever forgive what that man did, even if my mother was ill and died before she veered off the road. The world that he brought her into broke her heart, and yes maybe she's at fault too for loving him back but... this place, this _world _is not fit for raising children. The mafia is not for people who want to have normal American lives with two kids and a dog with a white picket fence. The mafia is a place for cold hearted bastards who kill for a living, laundering money and drugs and other criminal activities -"

"That isn't the Vongola, Hayato."

"Shit, I fucking know that! But the mafia laws still haven't changed much, if any. Do you really think they'd allow two men to have a child?"

Bianchi stirred uncomfortably in her seat. Gokudera lit another cigarette. The patrons went back to their happily annoying chatter.

"You're married, aren't you? In Father's time, that wouldn't have been accepted."

Gokudera took a drag of his cigarette and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Bianchi... do you have any idea how much trouble the Tenth and Reborn went through to cover that up? How much security they needed at the venue in Paris? The excuses, the faked reports, the explanations as to _why_ half the Vongola fleet was at a fucking vineyard in cottage country - not to mention on Etienne turf?"

Bianchi rubbed her face tiredly. "The Etienne _Famille _are allies of the Vongola, Hayato. Even you know that."

"No fucking shit. But try explaining that to the rival famiglia when Saint Remy and his right hand, LeBeau show up at the wedding for a fucking congratulatory meet and greet. The Tenth had to write it off as some fucking negotiations on shipment movements of some French products. Christ, I never want to be that kind of hindrance to the Tenth again."

"You're very lucky Sawada is that kind of man," Bianchi remarked dryly. She flagged a waiter over for a refill of their drinks. "Hungry?"

"Fuck no."

"_Due porchetta panini. Grazie,_" Bianchi ordered with a smile.

"I said I wasn't hungry."

"Shut it, Hayato. You are going to eat."

"Che..."

They were silent for a while, Gokudera stared off into traffic, annoyed how his sister had conned him into revealing feelings about his life and his decisions to her. When their food came, she kicked him under the table again and demanded he eat the food before she shoved it down his throat and since basically everything Bianchi touched turned to poison, he figured he'd live another day and just eat the fucking sandwich.

"And yes," he said through mouthfuls of food, "the Tenth is that sort of man. And that is another reason why I will not take advantage of his kindness and generousity by having him tell all those _lies _for my sake. And... " He trailed off. He felt the next words deep in his heart and somehow saying them aloud made them seem so heartbreaking that he had to force the food down over the lump that had formed in his throat.

"And what, Hayato?" Bianchi set her sandwich down and eyed him, preparing herself for one of his rare voiced revelations.

Gokudera chewed the bottom of his lip and looked off into traffic again. The sun moved behind a few clouds and it suddenly felt really chilly.

"I... I don't want to see that idiot hurt over this. I don't want us to go through all the motions to have something he wants so badly be ripped from his arms the way I had been with my mother. I... couldn't bear the look on his face or the feeling in my chest. The mafia isn't made of rainbows and unicorns, it's full of hate and blood and death. You're not stupid, sis. Think about it having two men for its parents? The nasty things other kids, other parents would say... The life that child would have. Fuck._Think_ _of our lives._ You accidentally killed your boyfriend, I ran away and lived on the streets from the time I was eight until the Vongola took me in as a dirty freelancer, killing people at the age of twelve to make a living and a name for myself. I wouldn't want that life for my kid."

"For once I agree with Yamamoto Takeshi, you would be a wonderful father _because _of your past. Hayato, the difference is that you and him are strong and you love each other very much. You would _never _let that happen. The difference is you have one of the largest and influential mafia families backing your decisions. If you want have a baby with Yamamoto, then do it. That child will be so loved from every direction, from the Guardians here to their families in Japan and by the people that just generally love _you._ You never have to fear for that child... And fuck, who cares that you're gay? It's alright. It won't matter because you can't choose who fall in love with, man or woman. It's a technicolour emotion." She sighed, taking a sip of her fresh latte.

"The times have changed, Hayato. The mafia is changing, for the better thanks to Sawada. As time moves on, we all change. Don't you think you should too?"

He didn't respond, just finished off his sandwich and downed his espresso in one shot, lighting a cigarette right after.

Gokudera couldn't deny his sister had a valid point, which pissed him off. She was right, but that didn't mean Gokudera had to agree with her. He was still convinced that having a kid with all his baggage and the fuckery that was his life, _this_ life, was the stupidest fucking idea the idiot had ever had.

Speaking of which, was it okay to call him yet? He was really beginning to miss that bastard.


	7. Chapter VII

**Chapter VII**

* * *

Gokudera trudged through his front door, exhausted. Being with his sister for almost an entire day was enough to drive anyone mad. Not too mention ill.

He lazily tossed his belongings by the door and padded to the bathroom, turning on the faucet to their large, Jacuzzi style tub.

He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of whiskey over two ice cubes in a fancy crystal tumbler. He dragged himself back towards the foyer where he grabbed his cigarettes and cell phone out of his jacket pocket.

Hands full, he heads back into the bathroom and sets the items down on the ceramic tile ledge surrounding the bathtub. Gokudera sighs contently because relaxing like this after putting up with Bianchi's lectures all day is _almost_ as good as being in the tenth's good graces. He only wished that Yamamoto was here to join him.

He strips himself of his clothing and eases into the comforting water and feels the tension and nausea bleed out of his body. He turns off the faucet and reaches for his phone.

It's almost eight o'clock and he figures Yamamoto has probably landed by now, so he dials his number and leans back against the edge of the tub, resting his head on the pillowed headrest. Gokudera hears the phone ring and for that he thanks Spanner for the universal Vongola cell technology which enabled the Guardians to reach each other in every part of the world, no matter how far apart they were.

On the fourth ring, there's a click and a very tired "_Gokudera?_" that comes through.

"Yo," says Gokudera, easing himself further down into the tub.

"_Hey._"

"How was your flight?"

"_It was alright, pretty tired though._"

"Yeah... have you been to see Squalo?" Gokudera refrains from calling him the usual "shark" because if Yamamoto has seen Squalo, he's probably too upset to deal with Gokudera's harsh jives.

Yamamoto lets out a long winded sigh. "_Yeah... he doesn't look so good._"

Gokudera can hear the wavering in Yamamoto's tone.

"_Anyway, how was your day?_"he asks, acting like he usually does by pretending that they hadn't fought the night before.

Gokudera doesn't really want to turn this into a conversation about himself when Yamamoto is feeling like this so he opts for the apology he's been wanting to say since he left the house the night prior.

He reaches for his glass of whiskey, the condensation on the crystal making it a bit slick to handle and the ice cubes clink melodically against the glass. He takes a swig and shudders from the stiffness but relishes in the warmth of the liquid that slides down his throat.

"Takeshi... I... I'm sorry about last night. And this morning."

Yamamoto draws in a breath like he's been waiting all day for that apology, the acknowledgement that Gokudera still cares because Gokudera knows his lack of voicing emotion often leaves Yamamoto uncertain of his feelings, even after they've been together for so long.

"_It's fine, Hayato... I understand._"

Gokudera can feel himself getting a little annoyed with Yamamoto's reaction because he had at least hoped to have cheered the idiot up. He really needed to hear his laugh. But then he remembers why Yamamoto is there and why they fought in the first place and he guessed under those circumstances, Yamamoto wouldn't be too happy. Still, he's not going to give up until he can hear the man he loves grin through the phone.

"I had lunch with my sister today," he begins.

"_Oh?_"Yamamoto interjects.

"Yeah... she actually agreed with you for once," Gokudera snorted.

Yamamoto laughs but it isn't the one Gokudera is hoping for. "_What was she agreeing with? You taking better care of yourself?_"

"Heh... something like that." After a long and awkward pause, Gokudera sighs. "Well, you should probably get some rest. Will you be leaving tomorrow?"

"_I'm not sure. We're waiting for a specialist to clear Squalo for travel, it's going to take some convincing though because he's in pretty bad shape._"

"Oh... alright. Go get some rest and do on't do anything stupid," Gokudera scolds lightly. Yamamoto's tone is still flat with a hint of sadness and Gokudera doesn't know if it's because of him or the condition of Squalo and assumes it's probably both. Since he's most likely at fault for making Yamamoto more upset than he needs to be, he offers three words he doesn't utter very often.

"Hey... I love you," he says and it's the most earnest thing to ever come out of his mouth every time he says those words.

Gokudera hears a sort of choking sob on the other end and he frowns.

"_I... I love you too,_" he says solemnly. "_Hayato...?"_

"Yeah?"

"_I'm sorry too. I'm sorry I pressured you so much. I... get why you don't want to._"

"You... you don't have to apologize, idiot," he says lovingly. "Just come home soon, okay? I miss you."

"_I can't wait to come home. I miss you too.._." Yamamoto's voice cracks and Gokudera is reluctant to hang up the phone, but he does before he's forced to hear Yamamoto break down and knowing he can't be there to console him makes him furious and hurt all at the same time.

Gokudera pushed the edge of the phone to his forehead and brought the crystal tumbler up to his lips to down the last of the whiskey. He sighed and set the phone and glass back down on the ledge and submerged further into the water.

Never in his life would he ever have thought he could feel love for someone as much as he did for that idiot. He never would have dreamed of feeling that love be returned. Never in his teenage life, though be it a short time, would he have ever thought that he would even like the baseball idiot that managed to get right under his skin.

After hearing the truth about his actual mother, Gokudera ran away from home at the age of eight. It was a stupid idea but Gokudera was filled with hatred and hurt. Mostly hatred, directed mainly at his father and then his 'surrogate' mother and even his sister.

He was always on the run, never able to stay in one spot for too long for fear of his father's men finding him.

He slept on the streets of Sicily, panhandled for the maybe one meal a day and started fights with any gangs he ran into. This usually left him immobile for weeks at a time to nurse his broken body back to functionality after he got the shit beat out of him. He was a kid with a lot of pent up angst, he couldn't feel anything but anger and the adrenaline rush he got from fighting made him feel good.

After two years on the streets, Gokudera had already began to make a name for himself, though it wasn't the one he wanted. He eventually became a part of a gang that offered him a thin, flat mattress and left over scraps from the restaurant they used as a cover for their money laundering and weapons businesses in exchange for his services. His services were usually thievery and pushing cocaine on the rough corners of downtown Palermo. After proving himself loyal and quite a fierce force to be reckoned with at his young age, Gokudera was promoted to shaking down people that owed the gang money and when they didn't pay up, Gokudera used the skills Shamal had taught him to blow up buildings and businesses and homes for collateral.

It wasn't long before he was kicked out of that gang though, because though he was good at what he did, his reckless nothing-to-lose behavior and flashy choice of weapon were too much of a liability.

By then he had already earned the name Smokin' Bomb Hayato or sometimes it was Hurricane Bomb Hayato but either or, he had made a name for himself. He also decided he wanted revenge, revenge on his bastard father for what he did to his mother, did to his _life. _He was a thin and dirty brat with shaggy silver hair and a real bad temper. People were afraid of him, afraid of his name but it wasn't enough because no mafia family wanted him, not even the bad ones. He was too out of control, never listened to authority and refused to work with anyone on anything. The mafia families saw him as a threat and a hindrance and eventually started putting hits out on his life.

He had just turned twelve when the first attempt on his life had been made and Gokudera barely managed to escape the slew of gunfire in his direction. He was only given that sliver of chance because growing up on the streets and working with dirty gangs that were wannabe mafia had taught him how to be sharply aware of his surroundings. Everything Gokudera knew and was capable of he had taught himself and that made him a proud and cocky brat.

He was nearly thirteen when fate had caught up to him and he had been shot fatally. Somehow... _somehow by some miacle,_ Shamal picked him up, nearly dead in an abandoned ally, surrounded by dirty used needles and his deathbed had been a pile of torn open garbage bags.

He survived the gunshot wound, never forgetting that Shamal didn't treat men and that he owed him a great debt. Gokudera refused to owe anyone anything so Shamal told him he could work off his debt and he would offer him a place to stay.

Hesitant to take the charity but couldn't deny that he was tired, _so tired _of running and this life, he agreed. Life with Shamal was annoying and he hated it but it was tolerable and Gokudera never forgot his objective. He was determined to continue to raise up, despite the constant knock downs and gain enough power to take on his father and blow everything he stood for into a crumbling pile of ash at his feet.

Shamal tried to ground him, tried to pop Gokudera's egotistical bubble by any means necessary. He supplied Gokudera with cigarettes and alcohol against his better judgement and he would beat the shit out of him when Gokudera would return home after doing something life threatening and reckless. He even offered him women, which Gokudera thought was stupid, he was thirteen what the fuck? Any woman willing to do anything with jail bait should be locked the fuck up and Gokudera sometimes thought Shamal should be too.

When Shamal was unable to bring Gokudera back from his constant self destruction he got him in with most infamous and influential mafia Famiglia in all of Italy and most likely the world. He worked as a freelance hitman, doing the dirty work of the subordinates of subordinates for a year before he got the call from the world renowned most feared hitman, Reborn. It was then he was given an offer of a lifetime. Go check out the ninth's candidate and if he isn't worthy, kill him and become the next candidate for the tenth position as head of the Vongola Famiglia. It was the opportunity he had been waiting for, his chance to finally have enough power to crush his father's existence and rid the mafia world of families that continued to live the way his father did.

Except when he got to Japan, he was so taken with the tenth and everything he stood for, his plans took a permanent spot in the back of his mind. He wasn't cut out to be a mafia boss anyway, but the tenth... the tenth could change things, he _would _change things and Gokudera would devote his life to serving that kind of man.

And when he met the baseball idiot, it's true Gokudera was jealous. He was jealous and envious and everything else the green eyed monster could be because Yamamoto was a threat. He was strong and skillful, though stupid, but the tenth wasn't your average boss. He wasn't going to base choosing his subordinates off of strength and skill and smarts. He cared about his friends and wanted to protect them.

And when the stupid baseball fool thought that the mafia was just a game, potentially putting the tenth's life in danger because he couldn't take things seriously, it infuriated Gokudera to the point he swore he could kill him. Probably would have if it wouldn't have made the tenth upset. So Gokudera bit down on his tongue and suppressed the feelings of rage to the best of his ability but when he was in the future, seeing what had happened to the tenth, he was angry with himself and more so at that smug and stupid baseball idiot. However, something changed during the fight with Gamma where the idiot had showed a fierceness Gokudera had never seen before, he saw a fire in those hazel eyes that meant _something_.

And after they came back from the future, everything was different. Gokudera felt different. The idiot was different. He developed these weird feelings whenever he was around him, like a flutter in his stomach when Yamamoto greeted them in the mornings or a skip in his heartbeat when he would sling an arm over Gokudera's shoulder, always getting so close and mindlessly invading personal space.

He was confused about how he felt, _why_ he felt that way about another _man_. The only advice he'd ever received on relationships and feelings were from Shamal who had drilled into his head everything about life was related to women and the way they made a man feel and Bianchi, who's approach to love was poisoning the one person you truly loved and accidently killing them just because they lied to you.

The day he told inadvertently told Yamamoto (in Italian because the idiot was too stupid to know its actual meaning or remember to translate it later) how he felt was the first time he had ever been honest with how anything made him really feel.

A few weeks later Yamamoto had abruptly blurted out that he liked Gokudera and it was more than just 'friends' to which Gokudera replied that they weren't even friends and followed it with a punch. A week later he caught Gokudera off guard by cornering him in the hallway after class and kissing him. For a short minute Gokudera lost himself in the kiss before realizing that he didn't have control over the situation and it infuriated him, thus Yamamoto receiving another black eye and fat lip.

Time passed quickly and Yamamoto was persistent and annoying and when Gokudera couldn't take it anymore he slammed the idiot against the wall in the boys locker room after watching him practice and finally took matters into his own hands.

He couldn't really say when he took that leap and fell but when he did, he landed hard. And he found, much to his dismay, the idiot was impossible to live without.

He hated how much he missed him now, he had hoped that Yamamoto would be a little more cheerful so he could have gotten the fix he needed. He knew that sounded selfish of him but when it came to Yamamoto, he was always the selfish one. Yamamoto gave him something amazing, his pure and abiding love and he had never felt that from anyone ever before. It was unfair of Gokudera to have dragged him deeper into the mafia world because he craved that love and that made him selfish too. He wished he could verbalize these things so that he wouldn't have to feel like he was taking advantage of Yamamoto's good heart.

And it wasn't just those feelings that had Gokudera addicted. Yamamoto Takeshi was a sex god.

Not that Gokudera would ever admit it out loud, but he was amazing at what he did and Gokudera didn't even know how, since they were each other's first. Perhaps it's that intense focus he has when he's feral or perhaps it was his devotion to athleticism that made him so agile and flexible. Either way, he was explosive. Yamamoto made his synapses spark with his touch, made him spontaneously combust with a lust he couldn't describe and he could light a fuse within Gokudera that caused a frenetic reaction like any good stick of dynamite would.

Having this reverie, Gokudera could almost feel Yamamoto's calloused hands ghost across his chest, his soft and wet lips on his flesh and his hot breath against his skin. He can hear Yamamoto whisper his name lustfully in his ear, his tongue along his neck. Unconsciously, Gokudera's hand wrapped around his own cock and he began to stroke it gently but firmly, using his sensory memory to imagine the touch of Yamamoto's hands on him. He pulled and tugged at his stiff erection steadily remembering the way it felt to kiss him and the way it felt to have Yamamoto inside him. He moved a little faster and harder, his wrist flicking upward and turning downward in smooth, elegant strokes. His breath became heavy and huffed and his heart palpitated erratically.

He doesn't even hear when a breathless "_Unh... Takeshi..._" escapes off his lips and the visuals of Yamamoto he's created become too much of a sensory overload. He starts to feel a welling of pressure, followed by a tingling heat radiating out from his scrotum. His cock twitches and contracts as electric currents rip through his body causing his toes to curl and he lets out one final moan as he comes, sending his brain into a blissful oblivion.

Coming down from his euphoric high, he blinks at the realization of what he's just done and in true Gokudera fashion, his face turns a shade of vermillion and the tips of his ears burn. He quickly tries to shake off the embarrassment resulting from that lewd act by jolting out of the bathwater and deciding on a shower instead.

When finished, Gokudera cleans up and heads for their bedroom and once there, he feels like it's been an eternity since sleeping in his bed. He flops down into the mattress on Yamamoto's side so that he can fall asleep with the scent of the idiot there, this time dreaming about when he was the feared Vongola Storm Guardian, not the docile stormy receptionist.


	8. Chapter VIII

**A/N:**

**Ahead is some cavity causing fluff and slight OOCness. Why? Because I feel like it. I blame it on my 8059 girls who tell me I breathe nothing but angst. So, this one's for you guys. xo**

* * *

**Chapter VIII**

* * *

Yamamoto never thought that being back on Italian soil would feel so good. It's not because Myanmar wasn't a very beautiful and exotic place, he just had a really rough week and was glad to be home.

During his time in Burma, he quickly became engrossed in the search for the terrorists that had poisoned Squalo in the first place. He and Fran followed as many leads as they could but without a report from Squalo himself they didn't get very far.

Lussuria stayed by Squalo's beside and all that time his condition remained critical. The doctors were able to ascertain that what Squalo had was a manmade disease that was similar to cancer, but much more malignant and faster paced. They were able to determine that the disease wasn't contagious and The symptoms they were unaware of because Squalo had fallen unconscious shortly after he was admitted to the hospital. They didn't have the facilities to research the disease any further.

Yamamoto hadn't realized how much time it had taken him and Fran to come up with nothing and when they met up with Levi and Belphegor, they had the same result. Defeated and annoyed, they returned back to Italy the second they received clearance for Squalo's travel and that was only due to Lussuria's medical background and the equipment they had on the Varia's jet.

He had realized that he hadn't spoken to Gokudera since the first day he had arrived and that was all his fault. Gokudera didn't call much, maybe four times that week but each time he did, Yamamoto was too busy to answer. When he wasn't busy, he was too tired and dragged out to remember to call him back. He knew that he was facing Gokudera's wrath when he got home, but to be honest it was the last thing on his mind.

After arriving on the tarmac, himself and the Varia were met with the Vongola's medical team. They wore white suits that covered their bodies, gloves and masks and took Squalo to a private room encased in glass to avoid any contagions and anything else that would make Squalo more ill.

Yamamoto stood outside of the glass room with a permanent frown plastered to his face. He paced back and forth until he was sure he had worn down the soles of his shoes. Yamamoto watched as the doctors set up an IV drip, hooked him up to machines and drew blood. This scene brought back too many painful memories of the first time he had seen Gokudera. He grit his teeth and clenched his fist and as he did, he happened to catch a glimpse of his reflection. Aside from the fearsome scowl pinched up in his features, he looked tired and ragged. A stubble had formed on his cheeks and chin and his tanned skin was paler than usual.

But Squalo looked worse.

His cheeks had become sullen and his eyes seemed to be set further back into his head. His skin was pallid and his white hair looked dry and brittle, it had lost any luster that it held before. There was always a film of sweat coating his flesh, his body was in a constant state if fever. It made Yamamoto angry to see him so _weak_.

"Oooh Yamamoto-chan, don't you think you should go home to your husband?"

Yamamoto whirled around to see Lussuria ruffling the white fur on the hood of his trench coat. He raised an expectant brow.

"Aha, yeah... but Squalo..."

Lussuria adjusted his sunglasses and waved a hand impatiently. "Go, go. Squa-chan will be okay in my hands," he swooned with a wide grin.

"Uh... alright. Call me if there's any change?" Yamamoto turned on his heel and watched Lussuria frowning at the bed ridden all to quiet Squalo.

"Of course," Lussuria said turning and blowing a kiss in Yamamoto's direction.

Yamamoto forced a smile and sprinted down the hallway. It was late, he doubted that Gokudera would be awake now so it gave him ample time to sneak into the house and make up for his absence.

His car was still there and seeing it again gave him a refreshing wave of nostalgia and now he couldn't wait to get home.

On his drive home, he took out his cell phone and stared at it for a minute. He wasn't ever one to abuse his power as a Vongola Guardian but Yamamoto figured that this one time couldn't hurt. He knew that Gokudera was most likely going to throw a fit so having himself remain intact and not blown to pieces was worth the shameless thing he was about to do.

He finally dialed a number, thinking he was absolutely put of his mind for even calling someone at this hour. A tired voice answered the phone uncertainly.

"Silvio? Uh, haha, sorry to bother you at this time but uh, I need a favor."

There was a pause on the other end and then with sudden clarity, "_Signore Yamamoto?_"

"Haha, that's me. Again, I'm sorry to ask-"

"Certainly, certainly. Meet me at the shop in ten minutes."

Yamamoto hung up the phone and grinned triumphantly. It was nice to have connections.

* * *

When Yamamoto walked through the door, a delightful melody flooded his ears. He paused for a second, listening.

_Chopin's... Nocturne? _he thought to himself. He only knew of this music because Gokudera enjoyed the finer things and his taste in music was no exception. Perhaps it was his mother's influence but it was one more uncharacteristic trait Yamamoto had come to love about his husband.

Then he froze. Being it well after midnight, he wondered why Gokudera would be awake and listening to chamber music at this time.

Still trying to be inconspicuous, Yamamoto shut the door quietly and slipped off his jacket and shoes, tucking the small parcel he carried into the blazer pocket.

With the skills of a true, natural hitman, he moved fluidly and quietly through their home until he reached the living room where he stopped dead in his tracks.

The sight before him, though it may be a simple act to anyone else, left Yamamoto truly breathless because everything about Gokudera always took his breath away.

He had fallen asleep on the sofa in his clothing, a pale powder blue tee and dark navy jeans. He had one arm draped over his abdomen and the other was over his chest where his hand palmed the spine of an open book. His glasses were still perched on his nose and his hair fell over his alabaster skin like strands of fine silver silk. His pale pink lips were drawn in a half frown, half pout and his brow was furrowed slightly, like he was pondering something meaningful and didn't like the conclusion he had come to.

To Yamamoto, he was simply beautiful, just like this. So pure and innocent, but still that fiesty hot head he had fallen in love with so long ago.

Yamamoto padded towards him with a smile he knew was his widest and it actually hurt because he hadn't smiled like that since the last time they were together.

Once in front of Gokudera, he took a look at the book he had fallen asleep reading. _Dictionary of Micro Biology; Viruses and Bacterium_. Yamamoto frowned. He didn't want Gokudera worrying too much about Squalo, he didn't want the burden of him finding out what was wrong and if there was a cure to fall on Gokudera's shoulders. Sighing, he lifted his hand and slowly brushed the fine hair off his face, letting his fingertips trail along his brow and down over his cheek.

Gokudera's eyes fluttered open with the surprise of the sudden touch and he looked up at Yamamoto and blinked several times like he was trying to regiser what was in front of his eyes.

Yamamoto braced himself for the incoming verbal assault but instead Gokudera propped himself up on his elbows and looked at him quizzically, the book sliding off his chest and into his lap.

"Take...shi?" His voice was gravelly and soft all at the same time. It spread a flare of heat through Yamamoto's chest to hear his name spoken in that tone by his temperamental lover.

Yamamoto leaned in to kiss him and was caught by surprise when two strong arms wrapped around his neck and he was forcefully pulled down on top of Gokudera into a rib crushing hug. Gokudera buried his face in the crook of Yamamoto's neck and sighed contently.

"You were gone for too long, you bastard," he said, his voice coming out in almost a whimper.

Yamamoto chuckled and kissed the side of his lover's head. "I missed you too."

Gokudera tilted his head back and took Yamamoto's face in his hands. He locked onto Yamamoto's eyes and studied him. "How are you? Are you alright? Do you feel ill?" His frowned and knitted his brows with worry.

Yamamoto smiled broadly. It was rare for Gokudera to be the concerned one of the two, and it was even rarer he'd be so vocal about it. "Yeah, I feel good. I feel even better now," he said, pressing his lips against the other's.

Gokudera's hands trailed across Yamamoto's cheeks and into his hair where he curled his fingers in, grazing his scalp. It sent a fresh tingle down Yamamoto's spine.

Yamamoto's tongue fanned across Gokudera's lips and Gokudera didn't hesitate to part them, allowing his tongue to slip through and explore the already familiar mouth. To any other non smoker, perhaps kissing someone who smoked wouldn't taste as good but to Yamamoto, to be able to taste Gokudera's favorite brand of cigarettes - that smoky but never acrid taste - was something he in fact craved like the nicotine itself.

Gokudera's tongue ran over top of Yamamoto's and darted into his mouth, running along smooth white teeth. His fingers massaged Yamamoto's scalp and jolting tingles passed down his spine. He moaned softly into Gokudera's mouth. When his chest finally felt like it was going to explode from the lack of oxygen, he pulled away ever so slightly, still sprawled out on top of Gokudera.

Gokudera let his hands fall from Yamamoto's hair to take his face in his hands once more. He faced him with steely green eyes that held a passing look of concern before returning to their seriousness. "Don't ever go that long without calling me again. If it weren't for the tenth keeping in contact with Lussuria, I would never have known if you were okay. I was a little... scared... that your other persona had taken over. You know, because of what happened to Squalo and all."

Yamamoto stilled himself. Gokudera's face had softened and it read pure vulnerability, an expression Yamamoto rarely saw. He was so unbelievably beautiful and the small crease in his brow and the slight waver of his lips only enhanced his beauty further.

"I'm sorry," he said earnestly, resting his forehead on Gokudera's. "I'm me. I'll always be me as long as you're here to keep me that way."

"Che... you'd better be, because I might just have to divorce your stupid ass if you weren't," he said, the uncertainty gone from his face and a playful smirk curving his mouth.

Yamamoto didn't hesitate to kiss him then, deep and passionate. He adjusted himself on the plush but narrow sofa so that he straddled Gokudera, reaching down and pulling the book out of the way. He tossed it to the floor and Gokudera protested but he quickly silenced him with a hard lip lock. Gokudera tilted his hips up and pulled Yamamoto into him, clutching the back of his shirt. Yamamoto planted a trail of kisses down his lover's neck, sucking and biting, relishing in the way Gokudera's breath hitched every time his mouth touched the pale skin.

"I want this off," Yamamoto demanded, pulling on the hem of Gokudera's t-shirt. He leaned back and Gokudera obliged, lifting the shirt above his head and working his way out of it. Yamamoto took a moment to drink in the sight beneath him. Gokudera's frame had always been smaller than his but over the years of extensive training and fighting, his muscles had become lean and defined. His torso was beveled in sharp planes, still seductively concave. His collar bone still protuberant, highlighted by the fresh red marks on the snow white skin. Yamamoto loved the way his skin contrasted his lover's and it will forever remind him of why Gokudera is his light, in more aspects than just this one.

His thoughts were halted by two hands with long slender fingers working dexterously nimble to unfasten the buttons of his dress shirt. When undone, Yamamoto shrugged out of it and leaned forward to crush their lips together hungrily while he worked at pulling apart the button on Gokudera's jeans. Gokudera's hands explored Yamamoto's battle scarred chest and torso, caressing it lovingly as their kisses became a little more wet and heated and their breath was heavy with anticipation.

"Takeshi," Gokudera breathed. "Not... here. Bed."

Yamamoto eased off the sofa, pulling Gokudera up with him and into his arms, not willing to separate their mouths just yet. They stumbled to their bedroom, their lips reaming glued to each other's, their hands pulling at hair and skin and their fingernails digging into flesh.

When they got to their bed, Gokudera allowed himself to fall backward, pulling Yamamoto on top of him. Yamamoto finally broke the kiss to divest the other of his pants and wriggling out of his own. Gokudera spread his legs allowing Yamamoto access between them and when their naked skin connected, a rush of heat spread throughout, and Yamamoto could feel the fire their passion created. Every time, no matter how rough or how smooth, their love making always felt like the first time.

There was little foreplay because this time it was all about letting the other know that they were loved for no matter who they were or who they had been, past or otherwise. That they loved each other through thick and thin, when they had been at their worst. It was about letting the other know they were missed when they went away, sorry for when they fought and that there was no where else they'd rather be than within each other's embrace.

When Yamamoto entered him, it was slow and gentle and the grip Gokudera had on his biceps was tight but the way he held on was not for the pain. It was almost as if he let go, Yamamoto would go far beyond his reach again and as time went on, the one steady thing he had in his life was the love he felt for that man. He was determined never to let go.

When Yamamoto fully hilted, Gokudera exhaled a long and low breath, almost akin to a pleasurable sigh. He wrapped his arms around Yamamoto and pulled him close, burying his face in the crook of his neck and moaned softly against his skin. Yamamoto rocked slowly, taking time to appreciate the way Gokudera felt wrapped around him and the way it felt to be inside him in their bed, away from everything awful that plagued the outside world. Here in their bedroom, there was only the sight of two souls melding into one and the only sounds made were sounds of love and the synced thudding of two hearts.

Gokudera dug his fingernails into Yamamoto's shoulder blades and let out a loud groan of relief as he clenched hard around Yamamoto and came. It wasn't a minute later that Yamamoto followed suit, only he bit down on Gokudera's neck and purred his name into his ear. He gathered Gokudera closer to his chest, though they were already as close as they could possibly be, and kissed him feverently, too lazy and lust filled to fight Gokudera for dominance over their tongues. He slowed the kiss down until it became chaste pecks, though still long and drawn out. Gokudera held him tightly, breaking the kiss to nuzzle Yamamoto's neck and a fresh and new warmth spread though Yamamoto's chest, bubbled under his ribcage and fluttered in his belly.

Before Gokudera, Yamamoto had never experienced love, he didn't even know what it was but this feeling he felt right now was the same feeling he felt when he was fifteen. It never changed, it never dulled with time the way other tangible things could. And he believed it, that their love was tangible because he didn't need to touch that emotion with his fingertips to know it was real, he felt it course through his veins and in the way they made love, he felt it when Gokudera smiled at him or brushed his cheek with the back of his hand. And he definitely felt it in moments like these, when Gokudera let down that ever so present guard and allowed Yamamoto to break through the fortitude to see the purity of his soul that lay beneath it all. He couldn't ask for anyone better, he couldn't ask for anything more and had this been a different life and they had met on different terms, he's positive they'd be together just like this because their love was written in the stars, it stretched across all parallel universes and destined by fate. Yamamoto was sure of it.

"Takeshi?"

"Hm?" Yamamoto hummed, dazed by his euphoric state.

"I really do love you." He said it in a way that almost sounded leading, so Yamamoto remained quiet. "And... if it'll make you happy then... we can try."

Yamamoto was near sleep as the last few words registered but he wasn't lucid enough to make sense of them, so he just replied tiredly, "Okay."

It was only later as he drifted off into his slumber that he realized what Gokudera had been trying to say.


	9. Chapter IX

**Chapter IX**

* * *

Yamamoto opened his eyes slowly, there was a dull burn and ache behind his eyeballs, so he blinked a few times and rubbed them. It seemed to relieve the pain some and that's when he realized he wasn't looking at the face of his gorgeous husband, but an empty pillow instead.

He propped himself up on his elbows, his hands underneath the goosedown pillows, and groggily looked around the room. The door to their bedroom was ajar, only open far enough to allow about two inches of an amber glow streaming in from the hall light.

He looked over at the alarm clock which read one fifty-seven pm. He had slept for almost twelve hours. There was no sunlight streaming in through the sheer curtains covering the bay window, in fact it looked pretty cloudy outside. That probably had made it easier for him to sleep for so long. That and the fact he had a nice warm body melting into him up until recently.

When Yamamoto sat up, he noticed his head began to throb and he felt a bit dizzy. He clutched the white linens coiled around his naked waist and waited for the vertigo to pass. He was debating on leaving the bed in search of Gokudera when Gokudera strut into their bedroom carrying a tray.

He smiled broadly at Yamamoto, and Yamamoto will always feel a flutter in his stomach and his heart race every time he sees it.

"You're awake."

Yamamoto returned the smile with his own and stretched. "Why'd you let me sleep in so late?" he asked through a yawn, reaching out for Gokudera.

Gokudera handed the tray to Yamamoto instead of walking into his outstretched arms. Yamamoto pouted and looked down at the tray.

"Well I know you've had a rough -"

"What's this? Eh? Tamagoyaki with rice and miso? You... you cooked?" Yamamoto asked incredulously, raising surprised yet skeptical brows. "Wait... is our kitchen still in one piece?"

Gokudera shot him a dirty look before looking away and pursing his lips in a pout. "I... I didn't cook it," he muttered under his breath.

Yamamoto chuckled. "Really? Where did you find Japanese food like this? It looks home made."

Gokudera sighed frustratingly and Yamamoto could see a small pink hue spread through his cheeks. "I went to see the Tenth at the estate this morning and before I left... I ran into Kyoko in the kitchen. So..." He looked down at Yamamoto who was grinning at him widely and his face flared red.

"Che, just eat it you bastard," he said crawling onto the bed beside Yamamoto.

"Haha, okay." Yamamoto picked up his chop sticks and ate some of the rice first, not really feeling that hungry which was strange because he couldn't remember the last time he ate.

Gokudera stretched out across the bed and propped his head up on one hand. "Is it good?"

"Yeah, it's good," he lied. It tasted like cardboard. Even though he knew it was Kyoko's cooking, Yamamoto thought the food was more comparable to Bianchi's cooking.

"The results from the blood tests haven't come back yet, but the Vongola doctors suspect whatever Squalo has is spreading quickly."

Yamamoto set his chopsticks down on the tray and looked over at Gokudera with a frown. "They still don't know what it is? Or how he got it?"

"They're not certain, but the doctors believe he contracted the disease through injection. They've ruled out all other possible forms. I've tried to get a hold of Shamal, because something tells me that whatever this is, it's similar to his mosquitoes."

Yamamoto looked puzzled. "You think someone else knows how to use Shamal's techniques?"

"It's possible. Shamal's techniques are his own, but it's likely that someone else is able to use the same skill in a similar manner. But I'm no expert, especially when it comes to Shamal's mosquitoes."

Yamamoto set his tray down on the bedside table and lay next to Gokudera in the same fashion. "But you'll look it over right? You're smart, you can figure it out right?" He hadn't realized his voice had begun to waver.

Gokudera frowned and draped an arm around Yamamoto, pulling him in close. "I won't promise you a cure or a solution, I'm not that qualified. But I _will_ promise you that I'll try my hardest."

Yamamoto gave him a bleak smile and brushed a few strands of hair out of his face. "I know..." God, he loved this man, and he swore he loved him more every passing year they were together.

"The Varia is on a manhunt, you know. They're looking for those terrorists. You didn't find anything when you were there?"

"No... and I should be helping them. Lussuria told me that Squalo had said if anything happened to him to call me in his stead. He already knew something was up. Doesn't Tsuna know anything about this?"

Gokudera scowled. "Of course the Tenth knows about it. He knows just as much as everyone else does. It was the Varia's mission handed out _by_ the Tenth. He isn't involving any of the Guardians yet because he doesn't want to undermine Xanxus. He's only allowing you to tag along at the request of the Varia. And no, you just got home. At least rest one day before you go back out there."

Yamamoto smiled to himself. "Is Gokudera worried about me?" he teased.

"Che... shut up, idiot," Gokudera said with a lazy grin.

"Hey... last night before I fell asleep, what did you say to me?"

Gokudera glared at him, the redness returning to his face. "What do you mean? You didn't hear me?"

Yamamoto smiled sheepishly. "No?" He sensed an incoming assault to his intelligence.

"You're an incredible idiot," Gokudera growled, poking him hard in the shoulder. "I'm not saying it again."

Yamamoto felt a fresh wave of nausea pass over him coupled by a hot flash. He drew in a breath and willed the feeling away. Heat flushed throughout his body and his head continued to pound, like waves upon waves of migraines crashing into one another with ferocity.

"Come on... tell... me," he said and suddenly his vision blurred again and he could feel himself reeling.

"Takeshi?" There's panic in Gokudera's voice.

Yamamoto blinked once. Twice. Three times and his vision swam back into focus and he saw a slightly horrified expression that passed on Gokudera's normally guarded features.

"What's wrong?" he demanded, anger laced in with the fear in his tone.

Yamamoto opened his mouth to speak but it's gone as dry as cotton and he forced it shut, trying to work up enough saliva to coat his tongue. As he did this, Gokudera jolted up and pinned Yamamoto down into the mattress with both hands gripping his shoulders. He peered down at Yamamoto, worry pooling in his deep green irises.

"What's wrong?" he demanded again and this time Yamamoto heard more fear than anger in his tone.

"N-nothing... I... I think I'm just tired," he managed weakly.

Gokudera lifted a hand to Yamamoto's forehead. His hand felt cool and comforting against the searing heat on his skin.

"_Shit,_" Gokudera hissed. "You've got a fever, you idiot. You don't get fevers when you have jet lag. Why the fuck didn't you tell me?"

Yamamoto took Gokudera's wrists in his hands and pulled him down on top of him, crushing him into a hug. "I'm fine. Nothing to worry about. Ne... Kiss me, Hayato."

Gokudera's eyes blew wide, baffled. "Wh-what? You idiot, you're _sick!_" He struggled to break free and all that movement jostled Yamamoto's stomach and the contents within it threatened to escape via his esophagus.

Yamamoto loosened his grip, albeit reluctantly, on Gokudera and tried to bite back the bile that was creeping up the back of his throat.

Gokudera instantly scrambled off of Yamamoto and dug in his pocket for his cell phone.

"Wh-what are y-you doing?" Yamamoto stammered.

"Calling that shit doctor."

Yamamoto sat up and doubled over on the bed. His head started to throb and again he had to blink several times to clear away the black and red dots that formed in front of his eyes.

"That _fucking asshole! _Answer your fucking phone!"

Yamamoto had never heard Gokudera sound so hysterical except for maybe when he thought Tsuna's life was in danger. He wanted to almost enjoy the rare display of care, but Yamamoto hated to have to hear the tone his voice and be the cause of it.

"Baby... I'm _fine_. It's probably the flu, or maybe the food," Yamamoto said carefully, softly. It hurt to speak, it hurt to breathe but he hoped that the nickname he used would be enough to get a change in Gokudera's mood because it was an endearment that always embarrassed him.

He really did believe his body was just reacting to the change in countries and the fact that he hadn't taken very good care of himself in the last week. There wasn't any way that he could have gotten the disease that Squalo had contracted because the doctors had said he wasn't contagious.

Suddenly he felt a hand in his hair, stroking and massaging his scalp. He slowly lifted his head and looked up to see Gokudera, panic stricken features, cursing under his breath angrily in Italian. He's still holding the phone to his ear but he's steady watching Yamamoto, never taking his worried gaze off of him. With Gokudera's lulling touch, Yamamoto begins to feel better and he leans into Gokudera's hand.

"Fuck that piece of shit. He's not answering his phone. _Fuck_," Gokudera hissed. He threw his phone across the room in a fit of rage. "Come, you're going to the estate."

Yamamoto grabbed Gokudera's arm and pulled him close once again. "Baby _please..._ just want to stay home, with you," Yamamoto pleaded, blood pounded in his ears and sweat beaded in every crevice of his body.

Gokudera frowned and eased Yamamoto back on the bed, kneeling in front of him. He brushed his other hand over Yamamoto's forehead. "I'm worried about you," he said, his voice was painfully saddened.

"I just need a shower and to go back to bed. Alright? I'll be good after, okay?"

Gokudera studied him with thin lips and stern eyes for a good minute before relenting a sigh and wrapping his arms around Yamamoto's broad back. "Fine... but the _second_ your condition changes, we're leaving and you're going to see the doctors at the estate. Got it?"

Yamamoto nuzzled into the mass of silver hair and nodded. For now the nausea had subsided but there was still a pounding in his head and burning heat behind his eyes, a result of the fever.

Gokudera got off the bed and walked across the room to retrieve his cell phone and Yamamoto dared to move out of the bed, slowly swinging his legs over the edge and stood. Another wave of vertigo hit him and he teetered but quickly regained his composure before Gokudera could see. He staggered to the en suite bathroom and turned on the shower. He stepped inside and sunk down into the cool porcelain of the claw foot tub and let the lukewarm water rain down on his hot flesh. It felt good and relieved some of his body heat.

He felt ridiculously big for the tub, he couldn't really stretch out in it. His knees were bent and knocked on either side of the tub and he rested his head back over the ledge.

The water began to collect in the tub, filling it up like a bath and the coolness he felt on his back was unbelievably comfortable. He closed his burning eyes and heard the soft pad of bare feet on the tile floor of the bathroom. He didn't open his eyes, he knew it was Gokudera coming to check on him. The footsteps disappeared and returned a while after, just as Yamamoto was about to fall asleep.

"I still can't reach him," Gokudera muttered.

"It's okay," Yamamoto answered. He opened his eyes and rolled his head on the ledge to look in the direction of the entrance to the bathroom. Gokudera stood in the doorway with his arms crossed and his mouth wrought into a perplexed frown. He had changed out of his suit to fitted jeans and a t-shirt that hugged his sharp and sculpted torso. With a small sigh, he walked over to the tub and knelt behind it, wrapping his arms around Yamamoto's neck.

"Feeling any better?" he asked.

"Mm, a little now that you're here," Yamamoto said, leaning into Gokudera's arms.

"Che... always such a sappy bastard," he remarked lovingly, reaching out and grabbing a bath sponge that had been floating aimlessly in the water. The spray of the shower dispersed when it hit Gokudera's arm, leaving beads of water to glisten on his pale skin. He kissed the top of Yamamoto's head and ran the sponge up his chest, squeezing the water out when he got to the top. The water felt soothing cascading down his chest. Gokudera dragged the sponge back down Yamamoto's torso and dipped it back into the bath to absorb more water. Yamamoto closed his eyes again and with every stroke of the sponge he felt the nausea subsiding and the headache beginning to dissipate. He breathed in the subtle vanilla scent of Gokudera's hair that brushed against his face when he moved forward. Gokudera repeated this process a few times, slowly and lovingly, and shamefully, Yamamoto could feel himself getting hard at this rare display of affection.

He turned his head and tilted upwards and captured Gokudera's warm lips with his. Gokudera paused, the sponge resting on his abdomen and stiffened; caught off guard. He fanned his tongue across Gokudera's lips, and Gokudera relaxed, parting them without hesitation. He loved the feel of Gokudera's tongue, the way it rolled over his slowly and skillfully, the heady taste of coffee and smoke that only made Yamamoto yearn for more.

Gokudera's hand came up, abandoning the sponge and pressed against Yamamoto's cheek while the other cupped the back of his head. Yamamoto could get lost in these kinds of kisses, the ones that were slow and passionate; the ones that let Yamamoto know how Gokudera really felt. He could get lost in these these rare moments of affection that left him feeling weak in the knees and stiffly erect all from one kiss.

Yamamoto could feel Gokudera's hand leave his cheek and then he felt the fingertips of long, slender fingers trace down over his jaw. They brushed down his neck and ghosted over his chest with such a erotically slow motion. When they reached his navel, Gokudera paused to breathe and Yamamoto drew in a sharp breath. Then he felt those seductively slender fingers wrap around the base of his cock, leisurely sliding upward to the tip and down again. Yamamoto didn't miss a beat and pressed his lips back against Gokudera's, keeping the slow and steady pace they had begun with.

Yamamoto clutched a fistful of hair while arching his back and shifting his hips upward. Gokudera's hand moved up his cock in long and lengthy strokes, his fingers curled tightly around his shaft while his wrist twisted with ease. He kissed along Yamamoto's jaw and across to his ear, licking the shell and breathing heatedly against his skin.

Yamamoto could feel the jolt of electricity shoot down his spine and every time it hit a vertebrae, a brand new shock would ensue. The fluttering and heat coiled in his stomach slowly came undone as Gokudera whispered lustful obscenities in his ear in Italian.

His body rippled with an intense wave if euphoria as he came, exhaling a near breathless moan and sinking back down into the bath. The shower spray had already began to clean up the sticky residue on his abdomen and chest.

Gokudera dragged his hand up Yamamoto's chest and cradled his head, bringing their lips together in a spellbinding kiss that left Yamamoto more breathless than all the ones prior, including his own climax.

When Gokudera finally let up, slowing it down until their lips just brushed each other's, he rested his forehead against Yamamoto's. He could feel the smirk spreading on Gokudera's lips when he asked, "Feel better now?"

Yamamoto kissed him lightly and smiled, feeling the best he's felt since he woke up. "Mm, yes. Definitely."

With a brush to the tip of Yamamoto's nose with his own, Gokudera stood and Yamamoto could see his shirt had gotten wet and the ends of his hair were damp, curling around his neck like silver rope.

"Clean yourself off and come to bed. You'll catch a cold if you're in there too long," he said mildly, leaving the bathroom.

Yamamoto laughed silently to himself and marveled the fact that his husband was a man who never ceased to amaze him.

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**R&R my lovelies! I want to know how you're feeling about this fic so far!**


	10. Chapter X

**Author's Note : **

**These next chapters are dedicated to my 8059 girls and Saria, who have inspired me to continue writing and helped me out of the funk was in. Thank you.**

As for Saria, thank you for your kind review, I'm glad you enjoy my writing enough to follow me to whatever fandom I choose to write, that means a lot to me. Just so you know, I'm thinking of doing SnK, Free! and a Kuroshitsuji/KHR crossover in the future. Message me through an account on FF so that we can keep in touch, if you're an 8059 fan there's an amazing group of girls I'd love for you to meet.

**-Ruby**

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**Chapter X**

* * *

Gokudera awoke to an awful wretching sound vibrating off the hollow tile of their en suite bathroom. It took a moment for him to register but when he noticed the other side of the bed was empty, he hurried out of bed and into the bathroom.

Yamamoto was leaned over the side of the toilet, his head on the seat. His face contorted in pain and his eyes were squeezed shut. He could see beads of sweat slick on his temples. He looked pale; ashen. his lips were chapped and white.

Gokudera felt his stomach plummet to the expensive tiled floor and his blood run cold. The theory he had about Yamamoto catching what Squalo had was just validated.

When he had gone to the estate earlier that morning, he had seen Squalo's condition. He wasn't stupid, what Yamamoto had was likely the same disease Squalo had and it scared him to death. Squalo was disappearing, caving in on himself and becoming nothing but a hollow shell of the ferocious and irrepressible man he once was.

Gokudera didn't know what he'd do if that happened to Yamamoto.

"Takeshi?" he gasps as he slid down on his knees and scurried across the cold floor.

He wrapped his arms around his broad back and slipped a hand underneath Yamamoto's head. He pulled Yamamoto into him and cradled him in his arms. Yamamoto groaned with the movement, his body was on fire and his skin was sheen with a cold sweat. His eyes remained shut and Gokudera saw tears streaming down his face.

"Dera...," he whimpered and the excruciating pain laced in with his tone crushed Gokudera's heart.

"Shh... we're going to the estate. I'm going to make it better," Gokudera said soothingly, stroking Yamamoto's hair. "Can you move?"

Yamamoto nodded slowly and then lurched forward, dry heaving over the toilet seat because there was nothing else, not even bile, left in his stomach. Gokudera rubbed soothing circles over the small of his back and tried to fight his own urge to vomit from the overwhelming anxiety that plagued him.

When Yamamoto was done, Gokudera lifted him to his feet gingerly and hooked his arm over his shoulder. Yamamoto was breathing heavily, he hadn't opened his eyes and Gokudera couldn't tell if it was the pain or it was another symptom that was preventing him from speaking.

He pressed a panicked kiss to Yamamoto's clammy cheek. "We're going to leave now, alright? But I've got to get you a shirt and... " He trailed off because if he continued to talk, he feared that his voice would crack and he'd choke and he didn't want to freak out. Not when he needed to be composed for Yamamoto.

Yamamoto rested his head on Gokudera's, nodding slowly again. He felt heavy, like dead weight and Gokudera, though as strong as he was, found it difficult on carrying a man that was nearly twice his size in body mass.

When they got to the entry way, Gokudera eased Yamamoto down, where he slumped against the wall.

"Hurts...," he muttered, clutching his head. Gokudera knelt down in front if him and placed a desperate kiss to the searing skin of his forehead.

"I know, I know. We're going. Just give me a second, alright?" He didn't wait for a response and he ran to the bedroom and threw on yesterday's clothes. He darted back to the foyer and slipped on a pair of sandals. He grabbed a pair for Yamamoto and turned to put them on and realized that Yamamoto had only jeans on and that he had forgotten to grab him a shirt. Growling at his stupidity, he slipped the sandals on Yamamoto's feet and went to grab his keys and cell phone out of the stained glass bowl. He noticed Yamamoto's suit jacket on the table next to the bowl, grabbed it and swung it over Yamamoto's shoulders.

He pulled Yamamoto up and dragged him through the front door, not bothering to set the alarm. He raced down the driveway as fast as he could, unlocking and igniting his car with the automatic starter. He put Yamamoto in the passenger seat and got into the drivers seat. As he pulled out of the driveway he fished through his pockets for his cell phone and dialed the tenth's number. There wasn't any answer so he hit the speed dial of the only person he knew wasn't on a mission at the moment.

_"Hello?"_

"Lambo, are you at the estate?" he asked hurriedly.

_"Yes. Lambo-san is here, stupid 'Dera. What do you want?" _

Gokudera clutched the phone so hard he thought it would snap. "Don't be a brat! Where's the Tenth?"

Lambo sighed. _"My oh my... He's with Reborn, not here. Dunno where they went." _

"I need you to do something for me, I need to to alert the medical team that I'm bringing in Yamamoto. I... I think he has whatever that fucking shark has."

There was an audible gasp. _"What? Is he alright?"_

"Fuck, he's obviously not, you stupid cow. Can your feeble brain handle that task?"

_"Uh yeah, sure. I'll go now." _

Gokudera growled and hung up the phone. He accelerated and took a quick glance at Yamamoto, who Gokudera was pretty sure had passed out.

"Oi, Takeshi... Takeshi, hang in there. We'll be there soon."

When he didn't get a response, he reached over and squeezed Yamamoto's thigh and could feel the burning heat from the fever through his jeans. Gokudera didn't have much experience as a doctor or nurse or whatever, he just knew what Shamal had taught him and by the feel of it, the fever was close to 103 degrees Fahrenheit. And his symptoms were similar to some sort of meningeal infection, but the doctors had ruled that out already. Still, it scared Gokudera all the same because those kinds of infections affected the brain and spread quickly.

Disregarding the law of driving and talking on a cell phone, he continued to call Shamal but the result was the same. No answer. Gokudera's frustration was peaking to the point where he nearly threw a rocket bomb at an asshole who cut him off. He also clipped a car that failed to signal changing lanes and he ran a red light. Had he heard police sirens behind him, he wouldn't have been surprised with his erratic driving.

Though they lived almost an hour away from the estate, to leave ample time to lose an enemy that decided to tail them to or from the base if need be, it took Gokudera only twenty minutes to nearly plow through the heavy, wrought iron gates of the Vongola estate. He parked haphazardly across the lawn of the estate, making a mental note to apologize to the Tenth for taking a chunk out of the cliché fountain in the center of the lawn after he hit it. He never liked that fountain anyways.

"'Dera!"

Gokudera looked up to see Lambo running across the lawn, waving his hand frantically. Gokudera got out of the car and watched as Lambo signaled the doctors and shouted, "In there, in there!"

The medical team was waiting by one of the paths that led to the research and medical building with a stretcher and wearing bright white biohazard suits. Gokudera felt like he was going to be sick and frankly, he was a little pissed off. How dare they treat Yamamoto like he was some kind of disease riddled trash. They were crude, yanking Yamamoto out of the car and nearly throwing his heavy and lethargic body onto the stretcher. One nurse removed Yamamoto's jacket roughly and another doctor began taking his vitals, pulling and prodding at body parts.

Gokudera felt his face twitch and get hot, his chest close to exploding with anger and he nearly stormed the doctors - he would have if Lambo hadn't grabbed him forcefully and pushed him back from lurching forward. "Don't jostle him like that, you fuckers!" he yelled. "I'll fucking blow you all up if you put one fucking scratch on his body!"

"Gokudera! Calm down! Are... you alright?"

"Let me go, stupid cow! I need to go with him!" Gokudera tried to wrestle out of his grasp but he had to admit, Lambo was a lot stronger than he looked.

"'Dera! Snap out of it! I called Vongola... he said he's on his way back with Reborn. It'll be okay!"

Gokudera felt the first bit of relief since this morning but it didn't ease the anxiety and fear gnawing at his insides. He stilled, his heart racing and a heavy dose of adrenaline coursed through his veins. He took a few shallow breaths and composed himself, feeling a little embarrassed that he had allowed the medical team to see him act so irrational.

"Good," he said to Lambo. Now that the Tenth was on his way in, he'd have to speak with him in regards to this illness and the current status if the Varia. "Stay with him until the Tenth gets back. I need to make a few phone calls. Where are the other Guardians?"

Lambo shrugged. "Lawn Head went with the Varia to search for those terrorists. Hibari's doing his own research with the Foundation. Chrome is in Japan with Chikusa. I saw Squalo, Gokudera... is Yamamoto gonna be okay?"

Gokudera eyed the kid. He had gotten taller, almost as tall as Gokudera was. His hair was a lot longer and a little less nappy but still just as unruly. His right eye was closed shut, but the green eye of his left had started to water. He was older, yes, but Lambo still cried. A lot. And any other time, Gokudera would reprimand him for it and give him a lecture about being a man, but now he had just cause. As strange as it was, Gokudera was fighting back his own urge to shed a few tears that would maybe ease the dread he felt in the pit of his stomach.

"I... I hope so," Gokudera muttered before he was pulled aside by the one of the resident doctors. He watched Lambo chase after the doctors who flocked to the medical wing of the estate.

"Signor Gokudera," the doctor addressed him in Italian. His voice came out hollow and a little muffled through the Plexiglas mask of the biohazard suit. "Can you tell me, what is your relationship to this man?"

Gokudera scowled at the doctor. He must have been relatively new because Gokudera hadn't seen him before and he had no idea that the Storm Guardian was fucking the Rain Guardian. Well, it wasn't just fucking anymore, Gokudera would have called it that maybe ten years ago, when they were seventeen but now they were married. Married. He would have laughed hysterically had anyone ever told him he'd end up fucking the baseball idiot, let alone marrying him. Sometimes it still feels surreal, like he's watching someone else's life through his own eyes. There is still a part of him, that he'll never admit, that feels like he doesn't deserve Yamamoto. He doesn't deserve all this happiness, this love. This family. And there will always be that part of him that still wonders how he ended up here as the Right Hand Man to the Vongola Decimo, the feared Vongola Tenth Generation Storm Guardian and lastly, how he ended up hopelessly in love with the still ever so annoying baseball idiot.

The doctor cleared his throat to remind Gokudera that he had asked a question that required an was a nagging pull in the back of his mind telling him not to trust who this guy was but he quickly pushed it aside. Gokudera never trusted anyone, that's just how he was.

"Che, what does it matter? The fucking guy is sick, how does that help in curing him? Like fuck," he growled. He moved to walk past the doctor to find someone more qualified but the doctor forcefully grabbed his wrist with a gloved hand.

"Oi!" Gokudera shouted, ripping his wrist away. "Touch me again and I'll shove a stick of dynamite down you throat! What the fuck is it? I have shit to do."

The doctor's warm and apologetic eyes made Gokudera soften his tone a little, they almost reminded him of the Tenth's.

"I'm sorry, Signor Gokudera. We need to know if you're contagious too. Since we don't know what the disease is or what's causing it, we also don't know how it's transmitted. Now that there have been two people that have contracted it, we must explore all options. So please, humor me, Signore."

Gokudera sighed. The doctor wasn't just a stupid idiot after all, what he said made sense. Even Gokudera should've known that. He just was a little frantic and not thinking straight and with Yamamoto being in the state that he was in, Gokudera was finding it hard to focus on anything.

"He's... he's my husband," he said with heat burning the tips of his ears. Referring to Yamamoto as his husband was something he hadn't done at all in the four months they had been married, so it felt foreign rolling off his tongue.

The doctor nodded, as if he had already figured as much. He didn't seem to be surprised at Gokudera's sexual preference. "Have you been intimate lately?"

Gokudera's face flared red with such a personal question. His love life was absolutely something he _never_ spoke about, not even to the Tenth. He scowled and reached for a stick of dynamite held in the waist band of his jeans, felt the cylindrical shape and became at ease. _It's for Takeshi, _he reminded himself.

"Y-yes," he muttered.

The doctor nodded again. "Has... has your husband had any personal contact with Signor Squalo?"

Gokudera was livid. "Are you accusing him of being with that _shark?_" he spat, reaching again for his ever so trusty dynamite.

The doctor held up his gloved hands in defense. "No, not at all. We just need to know how these cases are related! Please calm down, signore. I'd like you to come back to the lab so that we can draw some blood from you for testing. We must figure out this disease quickly to keep it from spreading through the estate or worse."

Gokudera calmed himself down once again and reluctantly agreed to be poked and prodded at for the sake of them finding out what was wrong with Yamamoto. It was crucial, if he wanted to save his husband's life.


	11. Chapter XI

**Chapter XI**

* * *

Gokudera sat on the edge of the hospital bed, phone in hand, his leg twitching furiously. It had been an hour since Yamamoto had been admitted and he hadn't heard word for the doctors on his condition. Lambo didn't know much either, he wasn't allowed to go further than the glass that boxed an unconscious Yamamoto inside, quarantined. And until Gokudera was cleared, that's where he was too.

_"We've already established that the disease is not airborne, otherwise it would have a higher infection rate. As far as we know, it's only Signor Yamamoto and Signor Squalo that have contracted this disease. Which leads us to two theoretical possibilities. A. It's spread through bodily fluids such as saliva or blood. Or B. It's a parasitic infection or injection that both parties have managed to come in contact with. Since we can't find the parasite, the former is looking more plausible." _

That's what the doctor had said while he took vial upon vial of Gokudera's blood. It didn't make sense to him. He had spoken with another doctor who, for some reason wasn't here, and his theory had been the latter. Gokudera was confused, he felt like he wasn't being told everything, that there were pieces of the puzzle still missing.

He was bristling. How _dare_ they suggest that Yamamoto was unfaithful. Gokudera absolutely believed that Yamamoto would _never _do that, especially not now. He may be insecure a little, still, and he may be suspicious of a lot of people but Yamamoto was one person, other than the Tenth, he trusted wholeheartedly. Maybe not at first and not for a long time, but somewhere along the line Gokudera dropped his guard and opened his heart when it came to Yamamoto and eventually let him have all of him. He'd never do that for someone he didn't trust.

So for that bastard to even _insinuate..._

His phone rang and it startled him. The display read unknown caller and he hesitated but something told him to answer the phone.

"Gokudera," he answered curtly.

_"You brat, what's with all these phone calls?" _It was a heavily slurred sentence, Gokudera almost didn't make sense of it.

"Shamal! You fucker! Do you have any idea-"

_"Well I have some idea from the one hundred missed calls, kid. What do you want? You're interrupting my lady time. Oh ho, hello there miss. That bikini doesn't suit you, perhaps you should let me take it-" _

There was a satisfyingly slapping sound and Gokudera felt a little better. He had been thinking something similar, except it involved flying to whatever island Shamal had landed on and blowing his perverted ass up. "Shamal!" he growled.

_"Alright, what! What? You have my attention now." _

"Yamamoto's sick," he said, his voice wavering, his mouth going dry as he uttered those words.

_"What?"_

"Takeshi is sick, you fucker-"

_"Yeah I heard you, brat. I'm asking what that has to do with me? Get him some medicine and put him to bed. Fuck, I can't believe you'd -" _

Gokudera had made up his mind. He was definitely killing Shamal the second he figured out what was wrong with Yamamoto and how to cure it. "No, you fucking idiot. He hasn't got a cold or a flu, hasn't the Tenth briefed you? Two people have come down with a mysterious illness and one of them is Takeshi and the other is Squalo. Squalo is... dying."

There was silence on the other end and Gokudera was just about to ask if Shamal was still there when he heard the doctor clear his throat.

_"I'll catch the first flight out of here,_" he said.

"Forget that," Gokudera said. "Tell me where you are and I'll send the jet.'

_"Oh ho, Mr. Big Shot Right Hand Man. Are you sure your boss will approve of you making decisions like this?" _

"Shamal, you fucking bastard. So help me god, I will fucking kill you! This is Takeshi's life we're talking about and if anything happens to him because you're too fucking busy with your dick in between a woman's legs or copping an attitude with me, _I_ _swear_ _to god_ I will fucking slice your throat and blow you up three times for good measure! Do you hear me?!"

Shamal laughed scornfully. _"You know how I feel about treating men, you little shit."_

Gokudera was near exploding with rage. "If anything happens to him when you could have been here to help him, I won't ever forgive you." His voice came out in gutteral growl.

Shamal went quiet once more, but not for long this time. _"I'm in Tokyo,"_ he sighed.

"Good. Gather Chrome from Namimori and be ready first thing tomorrow morning. I'll have the jet pick you up on the old Namimori base tarmac. Don't fuck up, Shamal." Gokudera angrily hung up the phone, wishing that flip phones were still popular so that he could slam the phone shut for better emphasis.

He called Chrome and explained the situation, she had been helping Chikusa out with a problem in Namimori. He had become clingy since Joshima left with Mukuro on mission of their own, Gokudera was told. It made him furious, that damned pineapple head acting on his own accord. Chrome agreed to come back with Shamal, despite the hesitation Gokudera heard in her voice - and why wouldn't she hesitate, being alone with that fucking perverted old man? So Gokudera told her to bring Chikusa along if she wanted to, to which Gokudera heard her breathe a slight sigh of relief. He needed her, just in case. Squalo wasn't able to see illusions but if the time came for it, he'd need Chrome's illusions to keep Yamamoto alive.

It killed him to have to even think like that.

Now he was getting antsy. He needed to get out of this room and make a few more calls, he needed to look over this missions report regarding the bio terrorists. He needed the Tenth to hurry up and get back so he could discuss these things with him, have a voice of reason because all Gokudera could see was red. He needed Yamamoto to hurry up and get better, so he didn't feel so lonely.

* * *

After another hour of restlessly waiting and racking his brain, Gokudera was about to blow up the protective glass boxing him in just as the doctor from before had walked in, this time without the biohazard suit.

"Your blood results came back clean, you're not infected," he said with a smile.

While Gokudera was relieved to gear this news, he was skeptical. "Are you sure? Do you know what the incubation period for this disease is?"

"We're estimating that the incubation period is likely immediate, since it's not a bacterial infection. We're still trying to find the source and the cause, but we keep coming up empty handed. We're... really at a loss here, Signor Gokudera. We're out of theories and without Signor Squalo's take on events prior, we're not sure how to proceed. And... it doesn't look like we'll be able to talk to him any time soon. His condition has taken a turn for the worst."

Gokudera's eyes blew wide and he gripped the railing of the bed with white knuckles to keep him from reeling. He felt like he was going to be sick for the nine hundredth time today. The doctor read his distress and hurriedly explained Yamamoto's condition.

"Ah, please don't worry, Signor Gokudera. For now, Signor Yamamoto is stable. We have him on morphine for the pain and saline solution to keep him from dehydrating. He's lucid, if you'd like to see him."

Gokudera didn't need to hear anything else before he was rushing out of the room and down the hall to Yamamoto's room. Lambo was outside, just like Gokudera had told him to be, with a small smile on his face.

The doctor pressed in the security code and the air sealed door opened with a hiss and Gokudera nearly ran inside. He moved the curtain aside and Yamamoto turned his head at the sound. He smiled broadly and Gokudera felt a wave of solace washed over him as he flung his arms around an unsuspecting Yamamoto and buried his face into his neck.

"You idiot," he murmured. "You had me worried. Your nonchalance is going to be the death of me," he complained.

Yamamoto chuckled softly and stroked Gokudera's hair. "I just wanted to stay home with you longer. I'm sorry, I didn't think I was sick... with this."

Gokudera lifted his head and kissed Yamamoto's chin with a sigh. "You idiot... Shamal is on his way. We're going to figure out what this is and how to cure it. I'm going to fix this," he said with determination.

Yamamoto smiled and tucked a lock of Gokudera's hair behind his ear. "I know, I have faith in you. _Baby._"

"Che... I'll let you get away with that because your sick, but call me that when you're better and I'll shove a stick of dynamite up your mmph!"

Yamamoto silenced him with a kiss, nothing more than a long press of their lips together, but it didn't matter to Gokudera as long as he was able to feel them again. Yamamoto continued to stroke his hair with a hand covered in plastic tubing and blood pressure monitors. "I love you," he whispered against Gokudera's lips.

"I love you too," Gokudera responded with a kiss. He rested his head on Yamamoto's chest for a while, listening to his steady heart beat, while Yamamoto continued to run his fingers through his hair, every so often placing a kiss to the top of his head.

"The Tenth should be back soon so I'm going to go speak to him. You'll be okay for a while?" Gokudera asked when he reluctantly pulled away.

Yamamoto folded his fingers over Gokudera's hand and grinned. "Gokudera's really sweet when he's worried. I like it."

Gokudera growled but smiled nonetheless. "Don't push it, idiot," he said.

Yamamoto laughed and brought Gokudera's hand up to his mouth and kissed it. His lips were warm and soft and Gokudera filled up inside, his chest tightened and his heart swelled. He couldn't explain the elation he felt being here and seeing Yamamoto alright, knowing there was some kind of hope to look forward to.

"I'll be here when you get back," he teased. "The doctor said my body was in a better condition than Squalo's, and that's why the sickness isn't spreading so fast."

"I guess your health fanaticism paid off, old man."

Yamamoto burst out laughing and Gokudera could just live in this moment forever, the way he felt right now.

"The doctors told me that I have a higher white blood cell count and-"

Gokudera put a finger to his lips and shushed him. "Leave all that smart talk for us grown ups. You'll only hurt that big empty head of yours," he said with a grin.

"Ah yes, my brilliant husband. How'd I ever get so lucky?" Yamamoto asked with a laugh.

Gokudera snorted. "Enough, enough. All this syrupy talk is going to give me cavities, you giant idiot. Get some rest, I have some work to do," he said, leaning in and kissing Yamamoto once more. He pulled away, letting his hand linger in Yamamoto's for just a little while longer.

"Okay. Don't work too hard."

"Ha. Some of us actually work and not slack off, like certain idiotic Rain Guardians." Gokudera smiled and allowed the feeling he felt hearing that guy laugh again warm him up as he left the room. His smile must have been contagious because when Lambo saw him, his grin got wider.

"Is he gonna be okay?" he asked hopefully, following Gokudera down the corridor to the elevators.

"Yeah, I think so," he told Lambo and as much as he wanted to believe it, Gokudera knew better. The disease may be progressing slowly, but Squalo was all the proof he needed to know that Yamamoto falling deathly ill was inevitable unless he and Shamal could figure out what it was and how to fix it.


End file.
